Sometimes When Things Go Wrong…
by apenny12
Summary: "Sometimes when things go wrong it's because they would have turned out worse if they had gone right." – Mark Amend. Daryl and Beth muse over what might have been if they had met before the apocalypse. Slightly AU "what if" scenarios with post-apocalyptic situations in between. Season 5 Beth and company.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** A nod to the genius Robert Kirkman for creating this wonderfully dark, post-apocalyptic world. I do not own or have rights to any of the characters/plot of this series. I'm simply a fan indulging in my post-apocalyptic fantasies.

**Thank you** Nicole for helping me sort out my thoughts and editing this! XOXO

**A/N: **My take on season 5 with sprinkle of AU fun! The gang has handled the situation at Grady Memorial Hospital, and Beth and Carol have been reunited with the group. The events that take place here are immediately following their return to the church (where Judith was kept safely away from the gun fight). Beth will be based on what we've seen from her in the hospital NOT my Beth from the For the Ones Trilogy. I will include details I have used in For the Ones, but it is not necessary to read those stories to understand this one!

OKAY! So if I get enough of a response (aka reviews) within the next 24 hours, I intend to make this a short multi-chapter story to last me until after the mid-season finale. Otherwise it will remain a one-shot. I have it marked as complete, but if you guys want more, it will jump to on-going. The plan is to update once a week (on Sunday of course) unless I get a chapter finished sooner. I will start writing For the Ones You Protect after the mid-season finale when things with Beth and the hospital play out more.

…

Daryl followed her subtle movements with keen eyes as they sat on the steps of Father Gabriel's former church. Beth was seated next to him, volunteering to keep him company while on watch, but she had remained distant since their initial reunion. She hadn't spoken much about what had happened at the hospital before their group came and helped clear the walkers out. Apparently she and Carol had things under control, which wasn't much of a surprise to him, and the two of them would have probably caught up with the group within the day had they not confronted the wannabe cops running the place. So essentially all Rick and the rest of them had ended up doing was creating a diversion quicker than the one she and Carol had come up with and cleared out the walkers for them to make a clean get away.

"How's yer' arm?" He asked quietly, his breath fogging in the crisp, night air.

Beth lifted her chin from where it rested on the handle of Rick's machete and glanced at her shoulder closest to him, "Fine. Aches a lil', but I'll be fine."

She had taken a bullet for Carol during the scuffle the two of them had undergone while still inside the hospital. He remembered seeing her, the upper portion of her scrubs a dark, burgundy red, as if it was still happening rather than hours before. He had been standing in the middle of the parking lot, covered in walker blood, but the moment she had come into view it was as if time had stopped. He had been unsure of her disposition toward him. Would she blame him for opening the door that night and causing all of this to happen to her? Would she hate him? Would she be happy to see him? Had she missed him as much as he had missed her?

He remembered how she had sought him out in the group. How intense her eyes had been when they finally found him. Then all his worries drifted away as she came crashing into him, throwing her delicate, bloodied arms around his neck, and he held her as if she was all that kept him anchored to the ground. He was slightly embarrassed the think of how cliché he had been, lifting her off the ground and twirling her the way he had, but he had been caught up in the moment and her momentum had propelled him to do so lest they both end up toppling to the ground.

After a few whispered words of comfort that only the two of them could hear, Beth had left his arms to tackle her sister. Maggie had been an utter mess, collapsing to her knees as she struggled to breathe, and unable to so much as form a coherent sentence. Whether Maggie had said it aloud or not, she had given up on Beth, despite what he had told her in the train car. In his opinion, Beth had no longer existed to Maggie after that conversation.

It was easier to think her sister was dead and no longer suffering than imagine her being alive out there, somewhere, and none of them having a clue as to where to find her. Maggie could accept Beth being gone, keeping herself moving with the goal of ending whatever this epidemic ravaging the earth was, rather than the unknown. The guilt and remorse of her decision had been evident with the way she had clung to Beth so desperately. Glenn had ended up having to help her walk most of the way back to church because she had been so distraught.

When Tyreese came walking out with Judith, Beth's reaction had been quite similar to Maggie's. He knew Beth had hoped with every fiber of her being that the baby had made it, but the cruel reality of the world wasn't always in their favor. Judith had been attached to Beth's hip up until she put the baby down to sleep and took her turn on watch.

"I'll change the dressin's after we're through with watch," Daryl mumbled, forcing himself to put his thoughts aside and concentrate on their task.

Beth mutely nodded her head.

He had so many questions he wanted to ask her. What happened after they got separated? What had she had to do? Had she looked for him? Who had caused the marks on her face? He prayed they had already been taken care of because otherwise he would likely find himself hunting them down and ripping them to shreds. While Noah had told him the gist of what the hospital was about, he wanted to hear Beth's story.

"You ever wonder what life would've been like _before_?" She asked while staring out into the darkness, "Like if the walkers had never happened. You ever wonder if we would have met?"

Daryl scoffed, "Even if we had I'd 'ah never paid you no mind. You would'a seen me and had me stereotyped before you could blink. You'd of been right too."

"That's not true," Beth's chin returned to resting against the handle of the machete she lodged in the ground, "I might be less experienced in life, but I was raised not t'judge a book by its cover. You should know me better'n that."

Daryl had to admit that while Beth had been naïve in certain aspects of life, she had proven to be one of the most accepting and honest people he'd ever met. She was good in ways that he didn't see himself being. She was much stronger than people gave her credit for. While her strength may not have been physical, her mentality was one that he didn't think he'd ever reach. She kept him going when he had wanted to give up. In a way, they had saved each other.

"We'd of never crossed paths anyhow. I'd of been driftin' with Merle in places a girl like you'd never find yer'self," he grumbled.

"Let's say it'd be by circumstance then," her face seemed to be more reminiscent of what he remembered rather than the numbness she'd been projecting, "You would'a had a job so we'll say Merle was doin' a stint in prison. Say you were working at that motorcycle repair shop you told me about. I'm nineteen now…probably. Honestly can't say since I don't even know what day it is anymore."

Daryl let a breathy chuckle escape him and Beth smiled.

"So I'd probably have enrolled in Georgia State and moved to Atlanta," she revealed fondly.

"You? In tha' city?" Daryl tried not to sound condescending.

"Daddy always said you should experience as much as you can while you're young so you know where you want to end up," Beth side-eyed him before continuing her charade, "So I'd probably lived in tha' dorms. Maybe had a roommate. Maybe one day I decided to go on a trip? I would've had Daddy's old farm truck so the whole cliché 'girl stranded in the middle of nowhere and happens upon a mechanic shop a few miles down the road' would have very likely happened."

Daryl put his crossbow down and rested his chin on the stock, copying Beth's pose, "Cell phone?"

"Battery died while listening to music on the iPod. The truck's radio didn't work," she clarified.

"You know a motorcycle shop ain't the same as tha' typical car garage, right? As far as what we'd be able t'repair," he added amusedly.

"Irrelevant," she waved her hand, "I would have been stranded with no cell phone, a little bit 'ah cash in my wallet, out in the middle of nowhere durin' one of the hottest parts of the year. It would've all been purely circumstantial that I found tha' shop you worked at."

Daryl found himself imaging the scenario as if it were really happening. A smirk played on his lips as he pictured Beth huffing down the road, denim shorts and flannel shirt tied at her waist, holding a billfold in one hand while carrying a dead cell phone and her truck keys with the other.

…

"Can I help you?" Daryl asked the distraught customer he noticed wavering in front of the shop.

"Yeah. My truck broke down a lil' ways down the road. I was wonderin' if I could use your phone?" The blonde girl asked politely.

Wiping the grease from his hands with his red rag, Daryl glanced at the iPhone in her hands.

"Battery died half an hour ago," she sighed and shoved the device in her back pocket.

"Hey Uncle Jess," Daryl hollered toward the office building.

An older man wearing a cap opened the door, "Yeah?"

"Got 'ah lady here who needs t'use tha' phone," he responded.

"Sure. Send 'er on in," the man answered and disappeared back into the building.

"My Uncle Jess'll get you fixed up," he gestured toward the building behind them.

"Thanks…," the girl peeked at his shirt before giving him a smile, "Daryl."

"Yeah. Sure," Daryl brushed her off and turned to walk back into the garage.

He had extended more than his usual level of courtesy because she had seemed truly distressed. It wasn't the norm for someone to show up outside of their shop without a vehicle of any sort and require assistance. Having left her a 'satisfied customer' he had every intention of returning to work and finish fixing the radiator he had been working on before he was interrupted.

…

A sound in the distance had them both jumping to their feet, weapons raised, ready to attack whatever the threat may be. The trees rustled to their right and a walker came ambling out of the tree line. Daryl raised his crossbow, but Beth stopped him.

"Save tha' wear and tear. I got this one," she said quietly, gesturing to his crossbow.

She knew he was watching, ready to leap in if the need be, as she maneuvered behind the walker and kicked the back of its knee. The walker, a good foot taller than her, crumbled to the ground in front of her. With a swift swing, the gurgling moans ceased, as blood coated the blade of the machete. Placing her foot on the back of the walker, she pulled the blade free and flicked her wrist in an effort to remove the dark, foul blood.

Daryl moved to her side and helped her drag the corpse to the pile beside the church. When the walker was disposed of properly, they returned to the stairs, and resumed their conversation.

"You really think you would'a blown me off?" She asked with a smile.

She watched him as he mulled over her question, "I wasn't tha' nicest guy _before_. Hell I ain't tha' nicest guy now, but I was definitely worse _before_."

"I think you're nice," she interjected honestly.

"Don't matter what you think," Daryl glanced at her as he caught himself, "You remember when we got lit? Back at that moonshiner's place?"

Beth nodded her head.

That entire day was one she would never forget for the rest of her life. It had been the day she and Daryl had become more than just two people surviving, thrown together by chance, and became...whatever it is they were. Friends wasn't strong enough of a term, but anything more intimate didn't quite describe their relationship either. They had always considered each other family, being together in the group for over two years, but they had never really had anything to do with each other outside of a few word exchanges. They hadn't known anything meaningful about each other. The booze and the exhaustion had crumbled their walls and they had both taken a step in a new direction, as equals, while the moonshiner's cabin burned behind them that night.

"I was pretty much a dick all the time back then," he elaborated, "like I was when I was drunk."

"Mmm," Beth hummed, "but you're different with me."

It was true, to a certain extent. Daryl had never snapped at her the way he had Carol or Lori. He never spoke to her in the manner he had Andrea. He hadn't struck up conversations with her either, but he had always responded to her when she had approached him. Then again, Daryl was a completely different person when he was away from Merle.

"Were you close with your uncle?" She asked while staring at the tree line the walker had emerged from.

"Yeah. He was my dad's half-brother. He was…different from my dad," Daryl replied vaguely, "I wanted to be like Uncle Jess in a lot of ways."

From the pieces Beth had gathered from Daryl about his dad, she understood what he was alluding to.

"You know what happened to 'em?" She inquired cautiously.

"Yeah," Daryl nodded while biting his lips together, "Got bit when shit went down. Didn't know what we were dealin' with at tha' time."

Beth remained quiet. After several strained minutes Daryl answered her unspoken question.

"I had t'put him down," his voice sounded soft, raw even.

"I'm sorry," she breathed.

"S'okay," he shrugged, "His dumbass would'a helped you if you'd really stumbled upon us."

Beth smiled, "Yeah?"

"Yeah. He'd 'ah seen you, talked to your old man on tha' phone, and made me fix it. Motorcycle shop be damned. He would'a had me chain yer' truck t'mine and haul it in t'the shop," Daryl smirked, "He was always helpin' people. Helpin' me," he finished reminiscently.

Beth leaned into Daryl, offering him silent comfort.

After a physically and emotionally exhausting day, she was relieved that things hadn't changed between them. Whatever the 'between them' was. She knew they still had things to discuss about what happened after she'd been taken, but Daryl wasn't asking and she wasn't ready to reveal anything yet.

She had been angry to find out Maggie hadn't even tried to find her. Angry that her own flesh and blood, all the _true_ family she had left in the world had written her off as dead. Angry that she had been separated from Daryl to begin with. However, she had been relieved when Carol told her everyone was alive. Relieved to see Daryl amongst the group. Relieved that she and Carol had managed to escape and reunite with the rest of their family.

"I would have thanked ya'," Beth pulled away to look at him, "For helpin' me."

Daryl met her stare with a serious expression, "You would'a been thankin' Uncle Jess."

"But I would've thanked you too, regardless," she gave him a small smile.

He nodded and she resumed leaning on the handle of the machete, imaging how annoyed Daryl might have really been to help 'some college girl' he didn't know and who his uncle insisted on aiding.

…

"This is bullshit," she heard Daryl grumble as he took the keys Jess offered him.

"Watch yer' mouth in front of tha' lady," Jess scolded glancing toward her.

"We're a _motorcycle_ shop. Unless she rides somethin' with two wheels between her legs, we ain't gonna' have the parts t'fix her vehicle," he argued.

"Son, you need t'mind your manners in front of Ms. Greene," Jess's face stern.

"I don't want t'cause any trouble," Beth quietly interrupted, "My daddy said he could be here in a few hours to pick me up. The truck can sit there over the weekend. He said he'd get it towed Monday."

"Don't you worry," Jess gave Daryl a pointed look, "I already let your daddy know we can take care of it. My nephew here will be _more_ than happy to take you back to your dorm and pick your truck up on the way back."

Beth spared at glance at Daryl who was quietly seething. His glared turned to her before he sighed and motioned for her to follow.

She climbed into the passenger side of a truck that couldn't have been much younger than her own, and put on her seatbelt. Daryl turned the ignition and the truck protested for a few moments before it sputtered to life. They pulled out of the parking lot and Daryl took a left toward Atlanta. They rode in uncomfortable silence until Beth's truck came into view.

"This'n yours?" He gestured to the truck on the side of the road.

"Yeah. That's her," Beth acknowledged.

"Need anythin' out of your truck?" He asked while slowing down.

"No. I don't keep anything in it. Locking mechanism doesn't work on the driver's side," she smiled sheepishly.

Daryl just nodded and accelerated the truck.

They continued in silence and Beth bit at her bottom lip. She wasn't a chatterbox, but she definitely didn't enjoy tense silences. Daryl didn't seem the talkative type either, but he hadn't flat out ignored her yet.

"Thanks for this," she uttered quietly, "I know it's not in your job description-"

"Damn right," he muttered under his breath, propping his left arm on the door trim panel.

"-to help people stranded on the road, but I really do appreciate it," she finished unfazed by his remark.

Daryl glanced at her and bent his elbow in order brush his hand through his short hair, "Not really me you should be thankin'."

"Thank you regardless," she said with a smile.

She caught him glance at her once more before giving a curt nod.

The rest of the drive hadn't been quite as awkward, but it hadn't been comfortable either. She directed him toward her dormitory, weaving through the streets until they reached her building, and she was more than relieved when he pulled the truck into a parking spot. She saw no need for parting conversation, as she had already expressed her gratitude of driving her home, and was more than ready to exit the vehicle. She tried not to seem too anxious as she quickly unbuckled the seatbelt and hopped out of the truck, determined to walk at a steady pace into her room, but Daryl's voice stopped her.

"Give me your number and I'll call ya' when I got your truck fixed. You can come pick it up," he replied while he fumbled with his flip phone.

"Oh. Yeah that might help," she realized she hadn't given her contact number to either of them.

Quickly rattling off her phone number, Beth was about to turn and leave when Daryl spoke up once more.

"You got a name?" He questioned coarsely.

Beth had always been witty, living with Maggie and Shawn she had to be, so her response was out of habit rather than in reaction to Daryl's terse attitude.

"Course I do," she immediately replied.

Daryl looked at her before huffing and attempted to hide his smirk, "You wanna' tell me what it is?"

Having finally gotten a positive reaction from him, she decided a little playful banter never hurt anyone, "If I start tellin' you my secrets, it'd ruin the whole mysterious allure I've got goin' on."

Daryl's smirk widened and she replied before he had the chance to reply.

"It's Beth. Beth Greene," she said, leaning against the truck door.

"Got it," he nodded while typing in his phone.

"Thanks again for the ride," she said with a wave.

"Sure thing," Darl lifted a few fingers from around the steering wheel and he backed out of the parking lot.

She watched the vehicle drive away and felt an odd lightness to her step. The day had started bad, but there were still good people in the world willing to help a stranger in need. That had to count for something.

As Beth entered her dorm room, she realized she hadn't gotten his number in case she needed to call and check on her vehicle. She didn't even know the name of the shop it would be sitting in until Daryl got it fixed. Then again, she had no way of being able to save his number with her phone being dead and she didn't know _where_ the shop was located. So there wasn't much to worry about.

For now she'd just have to wake up a little earlier to catch the bus and commute to her classes while she waited for Daryl to call her.

…

Footsteps behind them jarred Beth from her thoughts. She hadn't realized she'd been so caught up in picturing how Daryl might have treated her _before _until Glenn, and the man she had been introduced to as Eugene, were right behind them.

Daryl stood beside her, offering a hand to help her stand, and she took it without a second thought. She caught the questioning glance Glenn gave them, but said nothing on the matter. Instead she focused on the swelling of Eugene's face and wondered what could have possibly happened to him.

Daryl's hand tugging her to the door of the church broke her gaze and she followed behind him as he led her into the small security the church walls provided. They quietly made their way to their designated sleeping quarters on the floor and as Beth lay awake she couldn't help but wonder about the 'what if's' of what life 'could have been' had walkers not come into existence.

There was a chance that she wouldn't have met Daryl. There was a chance that she wouldn't have met _any_ of the people in their group. None of them would be the people they are now. Daryl would still be harboring all of his demons. She would still be innocent to all of the 'evils' in the world. None of the bad things that had befallen their group would have ever come to pass. What would life have been like then?

The longer she lay there, bouncing back and forth of which life she would have preferred, one thought came to mind.

_ Sometimes when things go wrong it's because they would have turned out worse if they had gone right._

...

**A/N: **Not going to lie...this is totally beyond my comfort zone! It's a story within a story! I've never written, nor have I read, anything remotely similar to this! It was SOOO much fun to dabble in both worlds though! **FYI **I have a poll on my profile (located at the top of the screen...be sure you're in desktop/tablet version if you're using a mobile device) asking if you'd be interested in a completely AU, Daryl x Beth, non-zombie story (if you haven't voted please go let your voice be heard!) and I was pleasantly surprised with the response. So I decided I would try writing something in the middle first before diving completely into the AU realm. SO! If you liked this, let me know! If I get enough of a response I'll take it from complete to on-going and post the second chapter this Sunday!


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** A nod to the genius Robert Kirkman for creating this wonderfully dark, post-apocalyptic world. I do not own or have rights to any of the characters/plot of this series. I'm simply a fan indulging in my post-apocalyptic fantasies.

**THANK YOU **Nicole for editing this even though you had a super busy day today! XOXO

Nicole will be editing this story as well, but I'm also naming her **Co-Author**! She really helped me plot this out and think of scenarios that were logical and not overused! So **THANK YOU NICOLE! **XOXO

**A/N: **Just a little FYI! I know not all of you have tumblr or follow me on tumblr so I've posted link on my profile to a photobucket account where I will post all the banner art I've made (I make a banner for every story I write) and fanart I receive! My most recent banner, for this story, is one I am SUPER proud of! It's my first time removing backgrounds and meshing photos (in this case Norman and Emily) together! Hope you enjoy!

Also, forgot to notate in the last chapter, Uncle Jess is from the video game Survival Instinct where you play as Daryl Dixon. He is Daryl's half-uncle (Will's half-brother), is bit by a walker before he finds Daryl who is out hunting, and Daryl ends up having to put him down. So I felt it was kind of neat to be able to include him in this story!

Lastly, I want to explain the premise of this story. It will not focus strictly on the AU (alternate universe) or strictly on the ZA (zombie apocalypse). I'm going to try and balance both worlds. Things will happen in the ZA that will effect the AU and vice versa. While we're "seeing" the AU being played out, you have to remember that they're sitting down or walking down the road discussing everything we "see." So things will be revealed that will require dialogue explanations. The dialogue will then effect their perception and ultimately play into their "story." So the jumping between worlds is necessary to progress the story. I will do my best to keep the worlds cleanly separated as to not make reading confusing. Also, as they 'get to know each other' in the AU, those scenes will inevitably become longer and more intricate. Just like in a fanfic, you have to build the background and establish the characters. The focus of some chapters may be more on the AU while others may focus more on the ZA, but both will always be included in every chapter. Beth and Daryl are getting to tell their version of 'what might have been,' on their own terms, like they would have liked things to have happened. It's a fanfic _within_ a fanfic...or Fictception! This term was suggested to be by a BRILLIANT reviewer (TWD_05 on archive of our own) so this genre I have created will be called Fictception! This story was created around the quote I used in chapter one, but the movie Inception is really the best analogy of what I'm trying to do. It's an amazing movie so I highly suggest watching it!

I hope this paints a clearer picture for anyone who might have been a little confused! Without further ado…here's chapter two!

**…**

Beth was exhausted. Just as she had finally gotten her mind to shut off, Daryl had come moseying back in the room with fresh bandages for her shoulder. By the time he had finished helping her dress the wound, the haze from almost being asleep had fled her mind and she was left tossing and turning the rest of the night.

The temperatures were dropping and it wouldn't be long before the clutches of winter dug its claws into the earth. They had the choice to either leave the church in search of a more stable place to hibernate or stay and hunker down through the cold weather.

The argument had been raised that she and Carol needed a few more days to recuperate, but Beth knew better than anyone how quickly things could go wrong in an instant and if Carol felt up to traveling, the last thing she wanted them to do was sit idle. Carol had agreed and thus they had packed their meager belongings and were on the road to Washington D.C.

She had learned in just a few short minutes that Eugene had been both a scientist with knowledge of curing this disease ravaging their earth and that his background had been a complete sham in an effort to survive. Speaking out despite his swollen face, courtesy of Abraham, he remained obstinate that if there was a cure to the virus, it would be in D.C.

"Looks like you're gonna' get to leave Georgia after all," she stated, referring to his admission during their drinking game several weeks ago.

He smirked while walking beside her, "Seems that 'ah way."

Everyone kept a leisurely pace, while Rick, Glenn, and Abraham led the group. She could vaguely hear the three men ahead attempting to devise a route that would take them around the walker dairy farm Abraham's group had come across during their first attempt to reach D.C. Carol and Tyreese covered the rear and Beth found herself walking beside Daryl, with Judith bouncing on her hip, somewhere in the middle. Maggie had turned into Beth's shadow, always nearby, but never intruding. She had come to understand Maggie's reluctance to believe she was still alive, no longer angry per say, but more betrayed by the notion that Daryl was the only one who had never lost hope in finding her.

"How long would it have taken you to fix my truck?" She blurted out to disperse her thoughts.

"Truck?" He questioned her before his eyes lit up in understanding, "Ah, well…depends. Woulda' been an older model?"

Beth nodded.

"I'd of had to have made some phone calls. Found a place that had tha' part. Get them to mail it to us and then the actual time it would take t'fix it," he rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "Lot 'ah work would go into it. So probably two 'er three weeks?"

"Two or three weeks?" Beth said in mock annoyance.

Daryl slid his eyes to her, "I told ya' we had a motorcycle shop. Shoulda' just appreciated that we would've taken tha' time to try an' fix it t'begin with."

"And you would've because you always keep your word," she smiled.

"Damn right," Daryl grumbled, followed by a comment that sounded oddly like 'miss priss' under his breath.

Beth laughed softly, seeing how annoyed Daryl was with the hypothetical situation and imagining how annoyed he would have actually been. She could picture him making phone calls and slamming the handset on the receiver with every 'Sorry we don't have that part' answer he received.

…

Beth stepped off the bus, said a quick 'thanks' to the driver, and walked across the street to her dormitory. After nearly a month of riding the bus, she was _more_ than ready to get her truck back. Hershel, having gotten the number when she had called from the shop, had kept her in the loop on the progress, but he hadn't been told an exact date on when the repair would be finished. Apparently the head gasket on the radiator had cracked. It was a costly repair, but as far as whoever was working on the truck could tell, the engine had overheated before any long-term damaged had been done to the engine.

Her phone remained glued to her side while she adamantly waited for the phone call that Daryl had yet to make. Not being one to answer unknown phone numbers, she had spoken to several solicitors and a few wrong numbers, each time hoping to recognize a raspy voice on the other end.

Her roommate, Melanie, or her friend Rowen, both girls she had made a pact with to enroll in Georgia State together during their senior year of high school, had been kind enough to take her anywhere she needed to go. However, Beth was not accustomed to the loss of independence that came with not having a vehicle of her own.

Looking up from the clock on her desk, the numbers illuminated a quarter past three in the afternoon. She was through with classes for the day, but Melanie and Rowen wouldn't be out until nearly five. Sighing, she got back to typing the essay that was due on Friday for her British Literature class.

Several paragraphs later, a buzzing noise caught her attention and she rushed to get her phone off of the charger. The call was from a number she didn't recognize and she prayed that whoever was on the other end had news about her truck.

"Hello?" She answered expectantly.

"This Beth?" The gruff voice asked through the phone.

"Yes. May I ask who I'm speakin' with?" She inquired politely.

"This is Daryl. I gave you a ride home after yer' truck broke down 'ah few weeks ago," he reminded her.

"Yes! I remember," she quickly informed him.

Daryl wasn't someone she would have forgotten easily. He had made quite an impression from his outburst in the shop's office and then with the surprisingly entertaining banter when he dropped her off.

"I've got your truck runnin'. Took me a bit to get the parts, but it shouldn't give you any problems now," his gruff voice taking an annoyed edge, "You know when you can come get it?"

Beth was beyond delighted to hear the news, "Yeah I can get my roommate to bring me by when she gets out of class. It won't be until five-thirty-ish though."

"S'fine. I'm usually here 'til six," his voice sounding smooth through the speaker.

"Great! I'll see you then," she responded enthusiastically.

There was a grumble of sorts followed by the phone line going dead.

Sending a quick text to her roommate, Beth got back to work on her essay.

ooo

The drive to the motorcycle shop took a bit longer than expected. Melanie's class had run later than usual so when they pulled up to the shop at five-fifty-two, she was immensely relieved to see the truck Daryl had used to drive her home still sitting in the gravel parking lot. The garage doors had been closed and the place looked empty, save the two trucks parked outside.

"You gonna' be okay if I leave?" Her friend asked looking past her to the building.

"Yeah. Thanks Mel," Beth waved, quickly getting out of her roommate's car and walking toward the office.

She opened the door and the bell attached to the overhead arm notified the room of her presence. Looking around she scanned the office for any traces of an employee that could help her. The walls were covered in an off-white paint that had chipped away to reveal navy blue underneath. Grease-stained-handprints littered the top of the bar and piles of paperwork were stacked atop the filing cabinet while others were scattered loosely on the desk. There was a rack on the back wall where a familiar keychain held her keys. All in all, the place looked to be in complete disarray.

"Hello?" She called aloud.

She was only answered with silence.

"Anyone here?" She spoke a little louder than before.

"Just a sec," a voice replied from the back.

After a few moments a figure pushed through the swinging door and emerged into the office.

"Sorry it took me longer t'get here than I anticipated. My roommate got out of class late today," she explained while shifting from foot to foot anxiously.

"S'okay," Daryl replied sifting through a few papers on the desk.

"So how much do I owe ya'?" She inquired while he skimmed over the paper in his hand.

"Yer' good. Your dad already took care of tha' bill," he said while moving across the room to add the page to the overflowing stack on top of the filing cabinet and then grabbed her keys.

"Oh okay. Thanks," she took her keys from him.

"If somethin' goes wrong with it jus' gimme' a call and I'll take a look at it," he informed her in a tone of finality.

Sensing that he was ready to be on his way, Beth gave him a smile and turned toward the door, "Thanks again for the help…and the ride."

"No big deal. I'll lock up after you," he said as he moved around the bar behind her.

Beth exited the building toward her truck. Pressing the knob for the door release and pulling on the handle, she wasn't sure what to make of the fact that her door wouldn't open. Trying to press the button again, she realized the latch wasn't releasing the way it should.

"Umm…Daryl?" She spoke over the hood of her truck while he locked the door to the office.

"Yeah?" He glanced up at her, "Oh. I fixed tha' lock for you. Just needed 'ah new mechanism in tha' door."

"You didn't have to do that," she blinked at him before a smile spread across her face, "but thank you so much! Daddy's been meanin' to get it fixed for me. No one bothers with tha' truck since it's so old, but I was still too afraid to leave anythin' valuable inside."

"Whatdn't nothin'. I was already havin' t'replace the radiator gasket. Figured I might as well," he brushed off her gratitude with his gruff reply.

"Well I appreciate it," she said with a tilt of her head.

He just shrugged his shoulders and strode to the driver's side of his truck.

"So that number you called me on earlier? Is that the number I call if somethin' starts acting up?" She asked while climbing into the driver's seat.

"Yeah. That's my cell," he answered as he opened his door.

"Alright," she accepted and put her keys in the ignition.

She wasn't sure how to end their conversation. She couldn't say 'see you later' because she wasn't sure if she ever would. Settling on 'have a good one,' she turned to bid her farewell only to realize Daryl hadn't seemed to have any issue with parting ways as he slammed the door to his truck. He then started the engine and glanced at her a few times; giving her the distinct impression he was waiting for her to do the same.

Following suit, Beth started her truck and began backing out of the parking lot. Giving him a small wave, she drove off the property and back toward Atlanta, enjoying her restored sense of independence.

…

Daryl sat in front of the fire, trying to keep warm, while the group settled down for the night. A presence beside him caught his attention and he scooted over to make room on the cooler he had found in an abandoned vehicle nearby.

"How ya' feelin'?" He asked quietly.

"Like I've been hit by a car," Carol teased and bumped his shoulder with her uninjured one.

Daryl gave her a look before grumbling, "That's not funny."

"I thought it was clever," Carol retorted with an airy tone.

"You could'a been killed," Daryl replied somberly.

"But I wasn't," she stared in the direction Daryl had been watching before she approached him, "She made sure of that."

Daryl's gaze returned to Beth who was walking around, talking animatedly to Judith.

"Has she put her down at all today?" Carol questioned quietly.

"Nah," he shook his head as his eyes flitted from Beth to Carol and back to Beth, "She ain't said much…'bout the hospital."

"Give her some time," Carol said moving to stand, "You were right, ya' know. She's tough. She saved us back there."

Daryl felt a swell of pride bubble in his chest, but made no outward gesture to respond to her comment.

"I'm gonna' take the kiddo for a bit. Make sure Beth gets some rest. Her shoulder needs it," Carol ruffled his hair affectionately.

Daryl swatted her hand away, suddenly appreciative that he didn't have a big sister growing up. Carol more than made up for it with her antics.

Shifting on the cooler, he watched Carol interact with Beth. He could tell from Beth's body language that she was insisting she was 'fine,' but Carol was stubborn. The older woman gestured to Beth's shoulder and Daryl knew the battle had been won. Beth begrudgingly handed Judith over to Carol and turned, catching him staring at her.

He sat a little straighter when she began walking toward him, but his view of her was cut off when Maggie stepped in between them. It may have just been his imagination, but the air suddenly felt much colder than it had a few moments ago and the tension was so thick that he could feel the pressure of it against his skin. He quickly diverted his gaze, attempting to give them a small shred of privacy.

After a few moments, the crunching of shoes on asphalt caught his ears and he glanced up to see Beth taking the seat Carol had just vacated. She didn't say anything, seemingly content with just staring into the fire, but he could see the tension in her shoulders and how tight she was clenching her jaw.

He wasn't sure what to say so he said nothing. Instead he leaned into her, much like she had done the night before, and offered her the same silent support she had given him. When she didn't acknowledge him, he decided to employ a tactic she had often used; distraction.

"So what would have happened after I fixed tha' truck?" His voice rough even to his own ears.

She blinked rapidly and he knew he had gotten her attention.

"Well…," she began, "we wouldn't have called each other up and asked to meet for coffee or anything like that. So…we would've had to have bumped into each other somewhere."

"You're just full 'ah clichés ain't ya'?" He couldn't help but laugh.

"Well you asked," she smiled at him, "and it could've happened."

There it was. The smile he'd been looking for. Feeling satisfied with himself, and not wanting to spoil her change in mood, he decided to play along with her suggestion.

"When I wasn't out huntin', I used to go to the bookstore downtown on my days off," he admitted reluctantly.

"Really?" She didn't sound as surprised as he had expected, "I didn't know you liked to read."

"Don't much care for it," he clarified, "but I'd go and browse through the motorcycle magazines sometimes. I could read 'em and didn't have to buy 'em."

Beth swatted his shoulder good-naturedly, "You would."

They shared a laugh. When their voices died down, Daryl's smirk fell as his thoughts sobered him.

"I didn't really have anyone when Merle was gone. There was Uncle Jess and I knew a few guys in the local biker gang from fixin' their rides, but for tha' most part it was jus' me. Merle's _friends_…were no friends 'ah mine," he glared into the fire as he spoke.

They sat in silence; the only noises around them were the murmuring of voices and the crackling of the fire as it consumed the branches giving it life.

"Merle jus'…he seemed to always find friends in the wrong people," he could tell she was choosing her words carefully.

"More like he _was_ one of them 'wrong people,'" he sneered.

"He was your brother. There's no possible way he was all bad. Jus' made wrong decisions," Beth argued.

Daryl appreciated her sincerity. It wasn't the norm for people to speak kindly of Merle, not that he had ever done anything to deserve it. While his brother wasn't the worst type of person he'd ever come across, Daryl knew that Merle was far from what one could categorize as being a 'good' person.

"Wait…were you insinuatin' that I'm a book nerd?" Beth squinted her eyes at him suspiciously.

Daryl smirked, "You said you would'a been in college. Seems logical you'd be in tha' bookstore for somethin' at some point."

"Ah…well…it's possible," she sniffed indignantly.

"They make you read books an' shit like that in college, don't they?" He defended.

"Yes Daryl. They make you read books and shit like that," she eyed him wearily, but there was no malice in her voice.

"Jus' gave me somethin' t'do when I couldn't get out in tha' woods an' didn't wanna' be cooped up in my apartment," he gazed through the fire at nothing in particular.

"Nothin' wrong with that," Beth's genuine tone was soothing.

While it had been his intention to help ease her tension, she had been the one to comfort him in the end. He supposed that in some twisted way his distraction had worked, but he hadn't meant for their conversation to take the route it had. When he felt Beth finally lean into him, he knew she was aware of his attempt, and was wordlessly expressing her gratitude.

With the atmosphere feeling more relaxed, Daryl held his hands out closer to the fire and fondly imagined what it would have been like to accidentally run into the younger Greene, in downtown Atlanta, _before_ the world had went awry.

…

Flipping through the pages of the latest Cycle World magazine, Daryl found a consumer review on the most recent model bike that Honda had released.

"Drives smooth my ass. Suspension is shit. Might as well be driven' down a road full 'ah pot holes," he groused and flipped the page.

When he found nothing of interest in the rest of the magazine, he placed it back on the shelf and looked for another publication to read. Being Sunday afternoon and having worked the day before, Daryl hadn't been able to leave town and relieve some of his stress as he usually did. Instead he found himself in the downtown bookstore, needing to take the edge off of his cabin fever by wasting time flipping through magazines about motor vehicles.

"Daryl?" A voice called his name.

He vaguely recognized the voice, but he couldn't picture who it belonged to. Casting his eyes around him, he found a petite-framed girl with long blonde hair and deep blue eyes approaching him.

"I thought it was you," she greeted him with a smile.

"Beth?" He couldn't quite remember if that was her name or not.

It had been two weeks since she had picked up her truck. Having not heard from her, he assumed that the vehicle had been running smoothly and he'd never see her again. He'd kept her number in his phone though, just in case she did call, he'd know it was her instead of random digits displaying across his screen.

"Yeah. How ya' been?" She asked and he noticed two girls standing slightly behind her.

Not used to making small talk, he fumbled over his reply, "Uh…good."

"That's good," she stood and nodded more than necessary.

He supposed the polite thing to do would have been to ask how she had been fairing, but communicating wasn't his forte and he'd never considered himself polite.

"So…um…what brings you here? To tha' bookstore?" She gestured with her hand to their surroundings.

Daryl immediately went on the defensive, "What are you suggestin'? I don't seem educated enough to enjoy 'ah good read?"

Beth's expression fell and it was her turn to fumble. Her mouth made a few shapes before her brows furrowed and she pinned him with a glare, "I meant nothin' of tha' sort. Jus' tryin' to make polite conversation."

"Well I ain't one for conversatin'," he fired back.

"I've noticed," she held her glare for a few moments before letting it slip from her face, "And I wouldn't consider magazines a 'good read.'"

She had him there. While he wasn't an avid reader, gossip columns and car reviews weren't exactly considered the classics. Glancing down at the book in her hands, he could barely make out the title from where her arm covered the front.

"It's _Pride and Prejudice_ by Jane Austen. It's for my British Literature class. The on-campus bookstore was sold-out so I came here," she untucked the book from her arm and stared at the hardcover dejectedly, "SparkNotes is going to be my best friend for the next few weeks because the language this book is written in is like…_ancient_."

He'd never heard of SparkNotes before, but smirked at her regardless. She was witty, polite to the point that it grated on his nerves, and she had a quick temper. She wore her emotions on her sleeve, open and bare for all to see. He wasn't sure if he considered her brave or naïve.

"Yeah, there's a big party out on the Conway place next Saturday. Steven's oldest brother is throwing it with him so there should be lots of older guys there," Daryl overheard the red-headed girl behind Beth announce.

"Yeah, me and Bethy are goin'," the brunette replied.

He noticed Beth glance behind her and he realized he'd been staring at her friends.

"You…know about the party?" Beth asked uncertainly.

"Yeah," Daryl replied in a clipped tone.

He had business, or rather Merle did, and Daryl would be making an appearance strictly for insurance purposes. One of Merle's 'friends' owed him some money before he had gotten locked up. The guy had apparently received a phone call from the oldest Conway boy to ensure everyone had a 'good time' at the party. Daryl, in turn, had gotten a phone call from the dealer saying that he would have the rest of the money he owed Merle by the end of the night and asked Daryl to swing by around eleven to pick it up. Once Daryl had the money, he would keep it safe until Merle was let out of prison.

"Well," Beth took a step back, "It was good seein' ya'. Take care."

"Yeah. You too," Daryl said turning back to the shelf of magazines, but seeing none of the texts.

He knew the kind of stuff that went on at the Conway place, and from what very little he knew of Beth, it wasn't a place she would want to be. However, she was an adult, capable of making her own decisions, and it wasn't any of his business.

Glancing over the aisle, watching as Beth and her friends exited the bookstore, he felt guilt beginning to nibble away at him. He knew what it would have sounded like telling her she didn't need to go anywhere near that party, but it couldn't have hurt to give her some sort of heads up…could it? Running a hand through his short hair, he sighed and picked up a random magazine.

It was going to be a long week.

…

"Shit!" Beth cursed aloud as she struggled to pull the machete out of the tree it had lodged into when she sliced through the middle of a walker's face.

"Leave it," Daryl hollered.

Bracing her foot against the tree she pulled once more, using as much force as she could muster, and managed to wiggle the blade free from the confines of the bark.

"I got it," Beth yelled as a bolt whizzed past her and imbedded itself into the eye socket of a walker behind her.

"Tryin' t'get yourself killed or somethin'?" Daryl derided as he rushed past her to retrieve his bolt.

Beth glared in his direction and then turned her frustrations on the closest walker to her vicinity, slicing the upper portion of its head completely off at the mandible. Blood splattered on her arms and across her face, and even as she felt the cool liquid against her skin, she didn't flinch. Kicking another walker back to a safer distance, she swung her blade again, and the decomposing body crumpled to the ground.

"I think that's all of 'em," Daryl breathed heavily, retrieving his scattered bolts.

Beth's eyes scanned the dozen or so bodies littering the ground. Bending down, she began sifting through pockets to see if there was anything that could be of use to them.

"What was that about?" Daryl gestured to the tree with a deep cut in the trunk.

"What? It got stuck," Beth glanced between the tree and Daryl.

"Nah. The Beth I knew would'a left it and gotten' out of tha' way so I could handle the rest," Daryl used the bolt in his hand to gesture as he spoke.

Beth abandoned the pocket she'd been searching through and stood as tall as her height allowed.

Taking careful steps over the bodies, she moved to stand toe-to-toe with the crossbow wielding, redneck.

"I can handle myself," she said in as even of a tone as she could manage.

Daryl's expression flattered, "That's not what I meant and you know it."

"I'm strong," she grit through her teeth.

"I know ya' are," Daryl replied solemnly.

She felt her jaw aching from how hard she was clenching her teeth together, but the pain helped her focus and keep the underlying emotions at bay.

"What's this about?" Daryl's eyes reflected concern.

"I'm not a burden. I'm not going to be a burden. Not to anyone. Not anymore," Beth felt her voice hitch.

"Beth," Daryl's eyes were now level with hers, "What tha' hell are you goin' on about?"

Beth couldn't form the words to explain why his comment had struck a chord with her. She wouldn't allow herself to shed any tears and let the things Dawn had said to her in the hospital affect her any more than they already had.

"I'm fine," she breathed in through her nose, attempting to keep it from sounding like a sniffle.

Daryl didn't press her further, but she could tell from his expression that the conversation was far from over.

"Let's go back. Everyone's thirsty an' we still need t'boil the water," she moved past him to pick up the abandoned water bottles they had dropped when the walkers appeared.

Not wanting to lead the walking corpses back to the group, they had decided to take care of them instead. What, in the beginning, had only been three or four walkers had quickly grown into at least a dozen. Several aching muscles and splatters of blood later, they were finally able to exit the woods and get back on the road.

Beth walked holding her head high; absorbing the warmth of the road through the heels of her boots, and forced herself to put what had just transpired to the back of her mind. She could hear Daryl following behind her, and not wanting to walk in uncomfortable silence, she slowed her pace so that they fell into step with each other.

Their game of 'what if' had become an entertainment of sorts. The pages of books were used as tinder for the fires that kept them warm and with no electricity; conversation and imagination were their only forms of entertainment nowadays. Creating their scenarios and allowing them to play out in their daydreams was a sort of escape from the dreary confines of their post-apocalyptic world. Beth had found herself thinking about their alternate universe even when not conversing with Daryl.

"In some ways," her throat raw as she spoke, "I think the world turning into what it has was a blessing for some people."

Daryl didn't reply, but she felt his eyes on her.

"Carol escaped an abusive relationship," she stated before quickly revising, "but she lost Sophia. So I guess that cancels that out."

Daryl grunted in acknowledgment.

"You got away from the life you had," she tried once more, "but…Merle."

"Asskicker?" Daryl attempted, "Guess we lost Lori then though."

"Glenn found Maggie," Beth interjected, "we'd already lost Momma and Shawn before that. So there's one thing."

Daryl nodded his head.

"We never would'a met either, so there's another," she added.

"Merle woul'a gotten' himself killed with or without things goin' t'shit. I wouldn't be who I am now though. Rick…yer' dad…Glenn…you," he didn't finish his thought, but Beth understood him.

"We all have t'change eventually, huh?" She breathed, "At least you changed for tha' better."

"I had help," his eyes cut to her but he didn't elaborate.

"You helped me too," she mollified.

The conversation ended there and Beth felt her heart more at ease.

A little ways down the road, she found herself debating over a thought she'd had during their last 'what if' conversation, and looked up at Daryl, "You think…if it had been _before_, you would've shown up to that party earlier than you were s'pose to? To make sure I was okay?"

Daryl chewed on his lower lip thoughtfully, "I'd like t'think so."

"You would've," Beth nodded her head once firmly, "because that's the kind of person you are. So you would've definitely come early."

Daryl didn't reply, but the smirk playing on his lips was enough validation for her that he agreed with her assessment.

She didn't know where she would fit in if the world went back to being a structured society. She didn't know _if_ the world would _ever _heal of this epidemic. She didn't know who would be alive, if _she _would be alive, tomorrow, or in a week, or even in a years' time. With so many uncertainties, Beth was thankful for the few entities that had remained constant in her chaotic life. The sun still rose in the east and set in the west. Georgia summers were still excruciatingly hot and muggy and the winters were guaranteed to bring snow and winds that chilled to the bone. The world had changed and with it, so had Daryl Dixon. He had never given up on finding her, keeping the faith that she was alive, and she had fought to stay alive, waiting for him to arrive. She may not have known him _before_, but she knew him now.

_And now was all that mattered. _

…

**A/N: **Yay! I know it's a day late, but I managed to get this beast written in 24 hours so I'm proud of myself regardless of being a little past schedule! Party scene will take place next chapter! So yes! I am continuing this!

So yeah...Beth is going to have some things to work through. No one would go through what she has and not have a few invisible scars. That's the (fictional) reality of their world.

You guys are absolutely amazing! I sincerely mean that! I have never received so many reviews/faves/follows in a 24 hour period…like…EVER! So as promised, I will finish out this story. I had only planned on making it a few chapters, but I somehow feel like you guys will be disappointed by that so I have a dilemma…

I can finish out this story, having Daryl and Beth depict how they would have liked their relationship to have gone in more elaborate detail and post-pone the third book of For the Ones until season 5 finishes (which would also give me more time to see if I'd like to incorporate any other details from the series in my story), or I can keep this a short multi-chapter with time skips and start the third book of For the Ones in a few weeks. I personally want to finish this story out in greater detail because it is an absolute BLAST to write so there's always the option of putting this one on pause. I hate doing that because then you lose momentum and sometimes stories don't get finished. I don't like writing more than one story at a time because I feel like one doesn't get enough attention, but I could post one chapter a month for each story, posting every two weeks like I usually do, if you guys really want me to continue this one out AND are impatient for the third book. I've posted a **POLL** for this with these options on my profile so please go vote so I know what the general consensus is to help me make up my mind on what to do! You guys are the ones who read what I post so I feel it's important to hear your voice!


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** A nod to the genius Robert Kirkman for creating this wonderfully dark, post-apocalyptic world. I do not own or have rights to any of the characters/plot of this series. I'm simply a fan indulging in my post-apocalyptic fantasies.

**THANK YOU** to my editor and co-author Nicole! She's amazing and I am so thankful to have met such a wonderful person! XOXO

**A/N: **Happy Thanksgiving! I thought about posting this last Sunday, but I thought posting on Thanksgiving would give me the opportunity to express how thankful I am for all of you reading this! To my loyal reviewers who leave me feedback and PM me to gush about the show or about pick my brain for my theories of this season, THANK YOU! To my guest reviewers who take the time to leave me a wonderful little note, THANK YOU! I hope all of you have a Happy Thanksgiving, whenever your Thanksgiving celebration may be, and just know that I am sincerely thankful for all of you!

THIS STORY RATING HAS OFFICIALLY BEEN CHANGED TO **M** FOR POSSIBLE FUTURE SCENES! ENJOY!

...

Beth could see a stream of smoke further down the road and breathed a sigh of relief when everyone came into view.

"What in tha' hell happened to you guys?" Carl asked as she and Daryl approached the group.

"Carl," Rick scolded before turning his attention to them, "You guys alright?"

"Yeah," Daryl nodded, handing his water bottles over to Carl, "We ran into some walkers. Got more than we bargained for."

"Well I'm glad you two made it back okay," Rick's genuine tone was one Beth hadn't heard in quite some time.

Beth flashed a smile and gave a quiet, "Thanks," when the older man took the water bottles she was holding.

Turning her attention back to Daryl, she could feel someone staring at her.

"She's lookin' over at you," Daryl whispered gruffly.

"I know," Beth didn't need to look to know he was talking about Maggie.

"How long you gonna' be angry with 'er?" He kept his gaze locked with hers.

"I'm not _angry_," Beth explained, "I'm upset…and I dunno'."

"Life's short," Daryl replied while taking his crossbow off his shoulder.

Beth stayed quiet and followed behind him to the cooler they had been sitting on the night before. She sat beside him and mulled over how to explain her inner turmoil to Daryl. Having come up with no other way to broach the subject other than just asking, Beth's knees brushed his outer thigh as she turned to speak.

"How d'you forgive someone who wrote you off as dead? Didn't search for you, didn't try an' confirm that you were _actually_ dead, even after they'd been told you were still alive," her voice taking a hard edge.

Daryl stopped rifling through his pack and inhaled deeply.

"My sister, my _last_ living relative, gave up on me. How do you forgive something like that?" She deflated and continued, "I mean…I guess I understand that not everyone can hold on to hope, with everythin' we've been through, but I _never_ gave up on anyone. I _knew _they were all alive. I _knew_ they made it. I feel like she didn't even give the possibility of me still bein' alive a second thought."

"Some things…" he paused, "You jus' can't dwell on other people's convictions. She made a mistake. She knows it. It's somethin' she's gotta' live with the rest of her life."

Beth nodded, accepting Daryl's attempt to comfort her.

"Feel what you feel, but jus' remember that none of us are guaranteed 'ah tomorrow," he finished and resumed searching through his backpack.

Her eyes watched his arms as he dug around in his bag. She understood what he was trying to tell her. She needed to sort through her emotions, but didn't have the luxury of time to do so. How much would she regret being mad at Maggie and then something happen to one of them and they never resolve their issues? That wasn't something Beth believed she could live with…or ever wanted to live with, but her stubborn pride was keeping her from approaching her sister on the topic. Maggie had given up on her and ignoring her sister was the most adequate punishment she could manage, but it didn't ease her heartache. However, she managed to take a diminutive amount of comfort in the fact that not_ everyone_ had thought she was dead.

"You never gave up on me," she spoke her thoughts aloud.

Daryl pulled his whet stone out from his pack and sat up straight. When his eyes turned to her, the intensity of his stare made her breath catch.

"No. I didn't," he replied in an even, serious tone.

Beth smiled.

At least she had Daryl. He may have been one of little faith before, but he had kept it for her. From his expression she knew that the possibility of her being dead had never crossed his mind. She could always count on him to be there for her and she was going to make sure she did the same for him.

"So…" she decided to change the topic to something of a lighter theme, "What usually happened at these parties?"

"Party?" Rick inquired behind them, returning from giving the water bottles to Carol and Noah by the fire.

Beth turned to face the ex-sheriff, noticing Noah hovering over Carol as she placed a tin can over the flames to begin boiling the water. For the most part, Noah had blended seamlessly within their group. He helped out when needed, would sometimes volunteer to take watch for someone who hadn't gotten enough sleep the night before, and was quite innovative when it came to making things from the remnants of the world _before_. From her conversations with Daryl, the appreciation he felt towards Noah had nothing to do with his contribution to the group, and everything to do with his help getting her and Carol back from Grady.

Moving her attention away from the duo purifying their water, she realized Rick was looking at her expectantly and Daryl was making no move to explain their 'game.'

"We have this hypothetical universe we're discussin' where Daryl and I cross paths before the apocalypse," Beth explained the gist of their conversation and from the speculative look the older man gave her she felt compelled to add, "It's tha' closest I'll ever get to 'ah T.V. drama."

"Oh yeah?" Rick snickered with a smile, "How'd she rope you int'ah this?"

Daryl glared, "Same way she does everythin' else," he answered elusively.

"So what's this party about?" Rick asked; genuine curiosity on his face.

"'Ah place her daddy wouldn't approve of," Daryl replied immediately, "You'd probably been there 'ah few times; ole' Conway place south of the highway."

"Sure have. Had one of the biggest drug busts in King County there 'ah few years ago," Rick disclosed, placing his hands on his hips and staring into the woods.

"Bet yer' asshole friend had a field day haulin' people off," Daryl grumbled.

"Shane wasn't always so bad," Rick said softly.

Beth hadn't cared much for Shane, but she never had wished bad things on him either. People reaped what they sowed and Shane hadn't done much good toward the end of his days. Clearing her throat, she felt the need to lighten the conversation once more.

"Well just because I was at a party didn't mean I was drinkin'. I'd been to parties _before_ and only drank soda. Daryl knows," she huffed and swatted her companions arm.

Rick's eyebrows rose as he glanced between the two of them.

"Yeah. Had her first drink a few weeks ago. Made 'er into a true redneck. Drank us some moonshine," Daryl let out a breathy laugh, "She's 'ah pretty happy drunk."

"We're a dangerous duo," Beth said with a smile that reached her ears.

"Oh?" Rick gave a look that stated he required an explanation.

"Crazy girl talked me into burnin' the place down," Daryl looked her up and down with a smirk.

"Didn't take much," Beth feigned offence, "Jus' suggested it. You were the one who said we'd need more booze."

"Remind me t'keep the alcohol an' matches away from you two," Rick shook his head with a look of amused disbelief.

Beth laughed and noticed that Daryl was smiling. His smiles were few and far between; generally only lifting one side of his mouth in more of a smirk-like fashion. Her heart felt light, knowing that despite everything that had happened, they could still smile. They could still _laugh_. Then she wondered if Daryl had ever smiled like that _before_. If she would be able to get him to smile, a true smile, had they ever met.

…

Beth found herself sitting by two guys she had met half an hour ago, on a couch she didn't own, in a house that she had never been to before. Melanie, whom she rode with to the party, was currently parked down some random back road, finding her boyfriend's backseat more interesting than the events inside the house. Beth wasn't going to complain though. At least they were in Hudson's truck and not Melanie's, so she wouldn't have to endure the evidence left in the vehicle that would in turn give her mental images she just did _not_ wish to see from the night's activities.

However, being left alone at a party where she knew only a select group of people wasn't her idea of fun either. The boy on her right had passed out a few minutes ago and the guy on her left kept trying to get her a drink. After refusing his third offer, telling him she was perfectly content with her hot Coca-Cola, he seemed to have given up. A cheer sounded from the kitchen as yet another keg stand was being attempted.

"You sure you don't want me to get you somethin' to drink? Or maybe a bite to eat?" She heard a voice asked beside her.

"I'm fine…_really_," she tried to remain polite.

"Come on. It's just one drink. What's _one_ drink going to hurt?" He asked, placing his hand on her coke as if to take it away.

"I said I'm _fine_," she said through a gritted smile.

"You're at a party. People go to parties to drink," he was pulling her bottle from her hands.

"Girl said she wasn't interested," a gruff, familiar voice came from behind the couch.

Beth whipped her head around to a pair of deep, blue, scowling eyes.

"Daryl?" She asked in disbelief.

"Why don't you go get yer'self a drink and leave tha' lady alone," his glare flickered from the guy to Beth.

"Dude, I didn't know she was waiting on anyone," the guy stood and backed away, holding his hands up in forfeit.

Beth stood and moved around the couch, "What're you doin' here?"

"Got a friend here who needs t'give me somethin'," Daryl answered vaguely.

"Oh. Well…thanks," she motioned to where she had been seated, "for that."

"I's just walkin' by. Heard him givin' you 'ah hard time," Daryl shrugged his shoulders.

Before she could reply, exclamations rose in the kitchen and Beth could imagine someone having just finished drinking a ridiculous amount of alcohol, while being held upside-down, now stumbling around on the tile floor.

She knew Melanie would be indisposed the rest of the night. Beth and her roommate had an understood agreement. If she decided she wanted to leave and Melanie was still preoccupied, she would take her friend's car back to the apartment and Melanie would get her boyfriend to drop her off later that night. Beth found herself immensely grateful for having that option at parties like these. She had seen colorful pills being passed around by an older man and there was nothing to drink except alcoholic beverages.

In her nineteen years on earth, Beth had yet to try any sort of alcoholic drink for one simple reason; her father. She had promised her dad that she would focus on her studies and that _should _she go to a party, she would only partake in the socializing aspect. She knew it was ridiculous to think her dad would show up on the Conway's porch and see her with alcohol in her hand, but Beth kept her word and the guilt of breaking a promise would eat away at her until she confessed. The last thing she _ever_ wanted to do was disappoint her father.

"You find your friend?" Beth questioned over the voices yelling in the room next to her.

"Not yet," Daryl shook his head.

"You want me t'help you look for 'em?" She inquired further.

"Nah. I'm good. I'll find him in a bit," Daryl refused her offer.

"Then…you wanna' talk on the deck or somethin'?" She gestured to the sliding glass doors behind her.

Daryl furrowed his brows, but said nothing.

"I need some fresh air," she proclaimed and headed for the door.

Stepping outside, away from the smoke, voices, and alcohol, Beth took a deep, calming breath.

The door slid shut, further closing off the party from the outside world, and Beth smiled over her shoulder.

Leaning over the railing, Daryl took a similar pose beside her as she revealed, "This isn't really my scene. Melanie and Rowen talked me into coming to this. Rowen ended up backing out because she has a major test on Monday and Melanie is off fornicatin' with her boyfriend."

"Why'd you come if you knew this wasn't 'ah place you wanted t'be?" He asked beside her.

"This is supposedly the last big shindig for a while before exams. We'll have regular classes next week and then we start cramming for finals. In a month's time I will officially have finished my sophomore year," she explained.

Daryl grunted in response.

"I knew Jason's brother was older, a lot older, but I didn't realize the crowd would be older too. I recognize a majority from campus, but his brother invited a pretty decent crowd too," Beth mentioned while glancing over her shoulder toward the house.

"Like the asshole tryin' t'get you a drink?" Daryl scoffed.

"Yeah. I met him tonight," Beth shook her head at the man's assumption that she was naive, "Daddy taught me t'never accept 'ah drink from someone I've just met."

Daryl smirked, "Smart girl."

"Daddy didn't raise no fool," Beth looked up at him and smiled mischievously.

Daryl's smirk widened.

As if catching himself, Beth watched as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and when his lips reappeared, all traces of the smirk had vanished.

From what she had gathered, she realized Daryl wasn't the type to let people in easily, if at all. He was crass, standoffish, and hadn't contributed much to any conversation they'd ever had. She was the exact opposite. She trusted easy, was sociable, and could hold a polite conversation with a complete stranger.

Generally, when meeting someone with Daryl's attitude, a person would steer clear. When he didn't respond in the same friendly manner he was greeted, a normal person wouldn't continue to associate with him. However, Beth saw something that she felt other people had probably missed or hadn't taken the time to notice. Underneath the discourtesy and insensitivity was a very lonely person. Beth felt compelled to reach out to him and while he hadn't been the most responsive, he hadn't outright told her to vacate his presence, at least not yet.

"It's 'bout time I go catch up with my…_friend_," his voice broke Beth from her thoughts.

"Oh. Okay," she gave him a small smile but made no move to follow him back in the house.

She stayed outside for another fifteen minutes before she pulled her phone out of her back pocket and clicked the lock button to illuminate the screen. The white numbers read one-thirty-two and Beth decided it was time to go home.

Electing to avoid running into any more troubling situations within the house, Beth walked around the side toward where Melanie's car was parked. Rounding the corner to the front of the house, Beth was startled to see Daryl and another man on the porch. Daryl had the man's jacket balled in his fists, effectively pinning him to the side of the house, and the man appeared to be groping for his back pocket.

Beth's eyes met Daryl's for a brief moment before the man in Daryl's grasp shoved a large sum of cash into Daryl's chest. Blinking rapidly, forcing herself to mind her own business, Beth marched across the lawn and down the dirt road until she came to Melanie's car. Tugging on the door handle, realizing it was locked; Beth patted the pockets of her blue jean shorts in search for the keys. When her pockets only yielded lint, she thumped her head against the driver's side window in defeat. Her head was beginning to pound and all she wanted to do was go home and go to sleep.

Pulling out her phone, she pressed the 'home' button and slid her finger across the screen to unlock it. Tapping her phone icon, her thumb hovered over her favorites list. She could attempt calling Melanie, but she didn't want to disturb her happy reunion. Hudson had been out of town the last two weeks working and Melanie had been looking forward to tonight all week. She could call her father, but then she would be forced to listen to him lecture her about being at a party, needing a ride home, and what _could_ have happened to her. Then there was Maggie, but she lived over an hour away in Athens attending The University of Georgia. She would probably tell their dad just for the trouble she would have to go through to get to Beth and then she would end up getting the lecture regardless. Her only other option was Rowen, who was probably passed out asleep from the mental exercise she'd put her brain through studying.

The crunching of gravel caught Beth's attention and she removed her forehead from the window in order to see who was walking in her direction. A couple she recognized from the party stumbled by her, paying her no attention, and Beth sighed in frustration. Putting her phone back in her pocket, she moved around the car, checking the other doors. Finding none of them unlocked, Beth ambled to the back of the car and climbed the bumper to sit on top of the trunk. Reaching for her phone once more, Beth returned to her contact favorites.

Another set of footsteps sounded beside the car, but Beth was too engrossed in trying to decide who to call for help to look up until they had passed. Cream colored wings were illuminated in the moonlight, a stark contrast to the black, leather vest they were sewn upon. In the stillness of the night, the broad shoulders that filled out the vest and the rugged wings that shone almost made the man look ethereal.

Then the person did something she hadn't expected. He stopped in the middle of the road and turned to her. She knew the man had a familiar air about him as she examined the back of his attire, but she hadn't expected that man to be Daryl. His deep, smoldering glare met her wide, unguarded stare and she felt an uneasy tension between them.

"What're you doin'?" His voice rough, distant.

"Mel forgot to give me the keys," Beth tried not to sound as pathetic as she felt, "I wanna' go home."

They stared at each other for several moments before Daryl's shoulders sagged.

"I'll give ya' a ride," he said while turning to continue in the direction he'd been headed.

"Oh no. I couldn't possibly inconvenience you with that," Beth didn't want to impose,"I was jus' about t'call my dad."

"I ain't offerin' twice," he stopped again and turned back to her.

Furrowing her brows, Beth was slightly miffed by his attitude, "And I said I'd be fine on my own. I'm a grown woman," she finished in a huff.

"Like you were '_fine_' with ole' boy back in there?" Daryl threw over his shoulder, referring to the guy on the couch at the party, "Get yer' ass off tha' car and come on."

Beth frowned. It was one thing to ensure someone they weren't being a burden, but it was an entirely different matter bossing someone around and being a total jerk. Beth didn't like being told what to do. She also didn't like rude people. She had half a mind to stay seated on the car just to spite him, but with the only alternative being to call her father, she swallowed her pride and jumped down from the car.

Following behind him, keeping a polite distance, Beth recognized his truck at the end of the road. Walking to the passenger side, she opened the door, climbed in, and put on her seatbelt. When she was situated, she crossed her arms over her chest, intent on strictly glaring out of the passenger window, and dreaded the tense drive back to town.

Several miles down the road, she was surprised when Daryl was the first to break their silence.

"You gonna' ask 'bout what you saw? On the porch?" His tone defensive.

"Is it any of my business?" She countered while keeping focused on the window.

"You seem like 'ah meddler," Daryl replied coarsely.

She knew it was meant to be an insult. His entire demeanor screamed that he was expecting her to berate him, but Beth had been raised to keep an open mind and give people the benefit of the doubt.

"My daddy always taught us that if we don't know tha' situation, then we don't have the right t'have an opinion," she bent her arm to rest her chin on her palm.

Daryl didn't reply, but she could see the visible tension in his posture relax ever so slightly in his reflection of the glass.

The next few minutes were significantly less strained than the beginning of the ride. With the atmosphere feeling less oppressive, now that Daryl was no longer brooding quite as heavily, Beth found her eyes wandering from her window. Glancing in the rearview mirror, a flash of color reflected in her eyes and she turned to Daryl.

"Fuckin' cops," he grumbled, pulling off the road, "Were you drinkin'?"

Beth shook her head and asked, "Were you speedin'?"

Before Daryl could answer an officer was standing outside of his window.

A knock on her own window startled her and she looked from the window back to Daryl. Having never been pulled over before, she was unsure how to proceed. He nodded toward the lever by the door handle and Beth immediate rolled down the window. Daryl mimicked her, lowering the glass barrier between him and the clean shaven man with bright blue eyes.

"Evenin'," the officer outside of Daryl's window greeted them, "I'm Deputy Grimes of the King County Sheriff's department and this here is-"

"Yeah. I know who ya' are," Daryl interrupted.

"Better watch that tone son," the man outside of Beth's window hissed.

Beth gripped the strap of the seatbelt that rested across her chest tightly. The second man looked much more aggressive than his partner and his hostile demeanor immediately put Beth on edge. Her eyes lingered on his dark eyes for a brief moment before she dropped her gaze to read the pin on his chest pocket; S. Walsh.

"What d'you want?" Daryl grumbled, ignoring the second officer.

"You got 'ah taillight out," Deputy Walsh answered smugly.

"Bullshit," Daryl sneered.

"Shane. That's enough," Deputy Grimes placated and turned his attention back to her and Daryl, "You two wouldn't happen to have heard anything about a party going on tonight. Maybe at the Conway place?"

"Ain't heard nothin' about it," Daryl kept his eyes on the road in front of him.

"What about you?" Deputy Walsh directed to Beth, "What are _you_ doin' with _him_?"

From the accusatory tone in the officer's voice, she knew that his question involved more than just why she was in the same vehicle as Daryl.

"He's givin' me a ride home," Beth kept her tone even and polite.

"Where ya' been?" Deputy Walsh leaned in closer as if to intimidate her.

Beth glanced at his partner outside Daryl's window and noticed the disapproving look on his face. Her eyes then caught Daryl's dark expression, as he glared at the deputy beside her, and she felt oddly reassured by his intensity. When his glare flickered to her for just a brief moment, Beth knew this was no routine stop. From the tightness of Daryl's mouth and the look in his eyes, she understood that this man, this 'Deputy Walsh,' was looking for something to pin on Daryl.

"I said, _where have you been_?" She heard him restate his question, articulating each word deliberately.

"Not at home," Beth turned her gaze back to him, determined not to let herself be intimidated.

She had no idea what Daryl or Deputy Grimes thought of her statement, but it was clear from the harsh glare the deputy's dark eyes were sending her that he had not been impressed by her defiance. Before he could press the issue further, his partner cut him off.

"Well you two have a nice night. Shane," Deputy Grimes jerked his head toward their car, "we've got more 'mportant things to take care of tonight."

The glare Beth received from the officer made her stomach drop. She fisted her hands to keep them from shaking. She had been pulled over for the first time in her life, experienced the whole 'good cop/bad cop' scenario that she had witnessed on just about every crime drama there was on television, and smarted off to a deputy of the law. This was _not _the kind of behavior expected of her by how she'd been raised. Then again, while she had spoken with the local deputy back home, he was _nothing_ like Deputy Walsh. She felt giving him a vague answer was more beneficial to both herself and Daryl, rather than the straightforward honesty she usually implemented.

"We're watchin' you _Dixon_," the aggressive officer spat as he pushed off the door of the truck.

Beth took a shaky breath. When she opened her hands, her fingers ached from the pressure she had applied to them. Crescent moon indentions littered her palms and she managed to swallow, but it was as if she had sand in her mouth.

Rolling up their windows, she watched out of her side mirror to make sure the deputy's car did in fact leave. When she realized which direction they were headed she felt another surge of adrenaline course through her.

"They're goin' to tha' Conway's place," he spoke her thoughts aloud.

Pulling out her phone she sent a quick text to Melanie to warn her to either leave the party or to stay away and be sure to use the country roads when they were driving back to Atlanta. After a few moments, the text was marked as read and a reply of _'We're leaving! 3' _bumped her message higher up in the conversation.

Beth let out a long sigh and sank back further into the bench seat.

Beside her Daryl pulled the shifter down and the engine roared when the truck began to move. The silence between them was much the same as when they had first left the party. Beth felt uncomfortable, but for reasons that had _nothing_ and _everything_ to do with Daryl all at once.

She didn't think Daryl was a _bad_ person. After all, he'd helped a complete stranger when her truck broke down…well his uncle had told him to help anyway. Regardless, he had helped her and _bad_ people don't usually play the Good Samaritan unless they had something to gain from it. He hadn't been as 'nice' when she met him at the bookstore, but here he was, giving her a ride home because she had been locked out of her roommate's vehicle. While she had witnessed a scene on the Conway's porch and Deputy Walsh hadn't seemed to be Daryl's biggest fan, she had always been one to try and see the good in people. His conflicting actions were giving her mixed messages and she knew nothing about Daryl to understand the circumstances of tonight, so she could only go off of what she _did _know; he had helped her when she needed it.

"So you don't drink or somethin'?" he asked, breaking her thoughts.

"Nope. I have yet to try my first alcoholic drink," Beth answered honestly, "Daddy said he doesn't want me drinkin'. He says I'm goin' to school to get my degree, not to party."

"You some goody-two-shoes then? Always obeyin' what daddy tells you?" He questioned mockingly, "Thought you said you were grown?"

"It's not obedience Daryl," Beth said firmly, looking at him with the most sincere expression she could convey, "Its respect."

She knew her messaged had been delivered and turned back to stare at the road in front of them.

They drove past several road signs, including a mileage sign telling her they were getting close to Atlanta. Not wanting to leave him on bad terms, Beth racked her brain for a topic she believed would make for lighter conversation. She then realized she had never heard Daryl's last name until Deputy Walsh so…politely referred to him as such.

"So…your last name's Dixon?" Beth questioned softly.

Daryl scoffed, "Yeah."

"Never heard of anyone with the name Dixon before," she mentioned as an afterthought.

"Must not be from 'round here then," Daryl replied; bending his arm that rested along the door trim panel to brush his hand down his short beard.

"I'm not. I grew up outside of Senoia, on a farm, and moved to Atlanta to attend college. I've only lived in Atlanta for a about year or two," she informed him while keeping her eyes on the road.

"Explains a lot," Daryl's tone held no malice.

"What's that supposed t'mean?" Beth was confused by his comment.

"Nothin'," Daryl responded with a shrug.

"Okay…" she drew out the word and furrowed her brows, "So what's tha' deal with your last name?"

"What's _that_ s'pose t'mean?" He repeated her question to him with a fierce glare.

Beth blinked, bewildered by the sudden resurfacing of his hostility, "You jus'…didn't sound too fond of your name."

Daryl eyed her for a few moments before sighing, "Stick around long enough an' you'll understand."

The more she spoke to him, the more perplexed she became. When she had first met Daryl, she knew he was rough around the edges, but she was quickly realizing there were serious reasons behind his aloof attitude; reasons that she knew nothing about. He was quick to take the defensive while assuming she was judging everything he said or did. From where she stood, it seemed like her seeing him on the porch had changed his opinion of her. It was as if he was expecting her to shun him at any moment. She found it ironic that while he seemed to be the one that feared being judged, he was the one projecting such actions onto her. Sighing, she shook off her irritation, and movement beside her drew her attention.

"Ya' mind if I…?" He didn't finish his sentence, causing Beth to look over at him.

He was holding a cigarette between his lips and a lighter in his hand.

"Might as well. I've already got 'ah headache," she pressed her fingers against her temple to illustrate her discomfort and added, "Would you mind rollin' down the window so it doesn't stay in the truck?"

She watched him bring the lighter to the end of the cigarette before he stopped and plucked the white stick from his lips.

"What's you havin' a headache got t'do with me havin' a smoke?'" His confusion evident from the sound of his voice.

"I'm allergic to cigarette smoke. Gives me a headache and I usually wake up the next morning all congested when I'm around it," she sighed, already feeling the effects of exposure from the party.

She watched as his hand moved to return the cigarette to his mouth, and she thought he had disregarded her request. His hand then hovered over his lips, the tobacco filled paper still held between his fingers, and after a few moments his hand moved away from his face and he placed the cigarette behind his ear. Shifting awkwardly in his seat, he used his free hand to shove the lighter back into the front pocket of his jeans.

Beth murmured a quiet 'thanks' in which he merely grunted in reply.

Daryl was hot and cold. His courteous actions were always followed by a rude remark. When he was making comments aimed to be offensive, he would then perform a chivalrous deed. He was a walking contradiction, but Beth had learned something tonight. While his words may be hurtful, it was his actions that gave away his true intentions.

Lost in her thoughts, she hadn't realized they had pulled into the parking lot of her dormitory until Daryl threw the shifter into park.

"If I'm gonna' keep cartin' you around I'm gonna' have to start chargin' ya'," Daryl grumbled.

"Mmm…I recall someone tellin' me t'get my 'ass off tha' car and come on'," she air quoted him with her fingers.

Daryl squinted his eyes and she could see the wheels turning as he tried to think of a plausible comeback.

"Maybe next time I won't offer," he replied evenly.

"Next time?" She countered immediately with a wry smile.

She had backed him into a corner and if his posture was any indication, he knew it as well.

"It's late," he cleared his throat and slid his gaze from her to the digital lights on his aftermarket radio.

Without needing any further cues, Beth unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the door to his truck. Sliding out of the truck she turned back to him with her hand on the aluminum handle.

"Thanks for the ride," she offered a genuine smile.

"Sorry 'bout the cops," his gruff voice barely reaching her over the engine.

She shook her head, "Not your fault. Worked out for tha' best."

He raised an eyebrow and Beth elaborated.

"If we hadn't been stopped, my roommate would have probably been calling me from King County Jail and then everyone back home would know what happened," she frowned at the prospect.

Daryl smirked, assumedly amused by her admission, "You're somethin' else Greene."

"I'll take that as a compliment," she raised her chin defiantly.

Silence rested between them and Beth felt a gust of cool air graze her legs.

"Thanks again for tha' ride," she repeated, "I promise not to get myself locked out of tha' vehicle again."

"You do that," he derided with an annoyed expression.

She moved to close the door, but felt overwhelmed to leave one more parting comment. Most of their ride home she had pondered over what she had done to make Daryl so on edge. When she realized it was nothing to do with her and more of what he was used to from other people's perception of him, she felt as if she needed to defend herself.

"Hey Daryl?" She got his attention while leaning her temple against the cool metal of the door.

He kept his eyes on the dash, but made no move to leave.

"I've come across different types of people in various situations," she began gently, "an' I feel sorry for those who base their opinions of someone on what they hear from others. They miss getting t'know some really good people."

Daryl didn't fully turn to face her, but she could see his eyes shimmer in what she hoped was understanding.

"You always talk so much?" His voice rough as he asked the question.

"Sometimes," she sing-songed with a grin.

He didn't respond and she didn't linger.

"See ya' round," she finished while closing the door.

She walked up the stairs to her doorway without glancing over her shoulder. It was only when she entered her dorm room that she heard Daryl's truck begin driving away. His brusque demeanor may fool a majority of the people he encountered, but Beth didn't take people at face value.

She wasn't sure if she would see him again, but she had a feeling that his curiosity had been piqued just as much as hers. She would just leave it up to fate to decide.

…

Daryl inspected his crossbow, and finding his cleaning job satisfactory, he placed it down on the ground. Moving to clean his hunting knife, he checked on the blonde sleeping soundly beside him. They had rested most of the afternoon, needing a breather from their intense pace during the day, wanting to put as much distance as possible between them and Atlanta. Once they had returned from refilling their water bottles, Beth had kept mostly to herself. The only time he had gotten any sort of enthusiasm from her was during their 'what if' scenario.

During their discussion she had acted exactly how he would have expected. He had always been the type to automatically assume people thought the worst of him. Merle had made quite the reputation for them and Daryl had found himself being looked down upon more often than not because of his kin. Add the circumstances of his mother's death, the type of man his father had been and turned into thereafter, and the minuscule shred of decency that the Dixon name _did _have was effectively tarnished. He was all too aware of how any time the Dixon name was mentioned; it was followed by a sneer or spoken of with disdain.

Beth would have done none of those things. She would have reached out to him, just as she had after the prison fell, and he would have become just as ensnared by the light within her as he was now. Beth had touched him in ways that no one else had been able to and he made a personal vow to make sure she knew he always had her back.

The meltdown with the walkers, talking with her about Maggie, and her overall attitude since having returned to them from the hospital had been troubling him. He understood how important it was for her to feel as if she was pulling her own weight. He understood her reluctance to forgive Maggie. He understood that Grady Memorial Hospital had done something to Beth. In certain aspects she was no longer the same girl that had been taken from him. The trauma she had experienced had made her stronger, however, she still held onto her morals and values; a feat Daryl hadn't thought possible. He wasn't aware of the pain she had suffered at the hospital, but the two, stitched gashes on her face was indicative enough for him without her having to reveal anything.

His eyes traced the soft lines of her face and for a moment, he was proud. Proud that she had survived, proud that she still held the same fire even though she had been given every reason to extinguish it, and proud that, through it all, her faith in him had never wavered. She believed in him without knowing anything of the person he had once been. She hadn't grown up in the same sort of broken home he had, she hadn't experienced the same painful life lessons he had, she hadn't had to struggle every day just to survive _before_ things had changed, and yet they had ended up in the same place. He respected her as she respected him, viewed her as an equal, and held onto her light as if it could replace his own. He would never tell her how empty his world had become when she had been taken, but it was just as she had said.

_He had missed Beth Greene so much when she was gone._

...

**A/N: **I have decided to hold off on writing book three, For the Ones You Protect, until after season 5 finishes airing on television. Things are definitely going to get crazier before the season ends and I already have a list of events I want to incorporate so I want to just enjoy the rest of the episodes. I started my trilogy to keep me occupied during the off-season and I plan to do the same with book three. It will be the longest of the three books and it will also be rated **M** for adult situations...so you have that to look forward to! Thanks to everyone who voted! A few of you wanted me to try writing both stories at one time, but I don't feel like I could give both of them my 100% and I refuse to post something I'm not happy with just to post something! Thank you all for understanding!

This chapter was Bethcentric with a little bit of Daryl at the end…so next chapter it will be flip-flopped! Also rather than splitting the AU scene into two smaller portions, I felt the more elaborate version (in Beth's POV) was more compelling. Switching perspectives ruined the mood of the scene and Beth's view point in this chapter was important! Changing it would have taken away from the insight we got from her. So look forward to a more Daryl driven chapter on my next update!

The line "it's not obedience Daryl…its respect," is from the movie Pacific Rim. Absolutely love that movie and couldn't resist the tribute!

So a cameo from Rick and Shane! I thought it might be fun to throw some of the other characters in there from time to time, when they would logically fit into the scene. A lot of the characters we love have passed on, but in Daryl and Beth's AU they would still be alive! So we'll get to see them come in and out from time to time!

In TWD we never actually hear where Hershel's farm is located, specifically, but after some research I found the house can be found in Senoia, GA. So I decided to blend a little reality into the story and keep the location where it really stands. It's about a 45 min. drive from Senoia to Atlanta (according to Google Maps). The site where they make camp (after the farm is overrun and before they find the prison) at the rock waterfall, the prison, and Woodberry are all also located in Senoia. Also, there is no such thing as King County in Georgia! I thought it was a legit place, but Kirkman completely made it up! Just a bit of FYI.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** A nod to the genius Robert Kirkman for creating this wonderfully dark, post-apocalyptic world. I do not own or have rights to any of the characters/plot of this series. I'm simply a fan indulging in my post-apocalyptic fantasies.

So the **original** chapter that I sent Nicole was a bit of a mess. I re-read this several times and changed several scenes so she hasn't had time to check over the new version! Just a heads up!

**A/N: **Sorry for the late night upload, YAY! New chapter! It took me a bit to get back into the groove of this story, but I actually really love how this chapter turned out. As promised, I did the reverse of last chapter and this is completely in Daryl's POV until the end scene.

…

Daryl held up his hand, signaling everyone to halt, and peeked around the corner. It was dark, but he was still able to make out of bodies standing at the end of the aisle. Making a quick count, he held up one finger, followed by four, indicating fourteen _visible_ walkers. Glancing over his shoulder, his eyes met Rick's for a brief moment, giving each other a nod, and then looked over to Beth.

After their quarrel in the woods a few days back, she had made it clear that she wanted to be more involved in sharing group responsibilities, and thus Daryl had decided to make sure Beth would be included in any of their future runs. When they had seen the grocery store on the edge of town, he had implored that Beth come with them to look for supplies, and everyone's attention landed on Maggie. He could tell the older Greene had wanted to argue, but to his surprise, Maggie had kept her thoughts to herself.

They had cleared a house further down the road, and while the rest of them went back to search the store, Judith had stayed behind with Carol, who was still recovering, as well as Tara, Tyreese, and Eugene. If their run went awry, everyone knew to rendezvous at the house. There was an understood rule that anyone who failed to show within a twenty-four hour waiting period would no longer be considered to be among the living and the group would move on without them.

Receiving a reassuring smile from the blonde, he turned his attention back to the danger ahead of them. Lifting his crossbow, Daryl quickly crept across the aisle to the far end of the shelving, and motioned with his free hand for the next person to follow. As each member of the group crossed the tiled floor, more walkers shambled into view. Daryl squinted his eyes and attempted to update his count; lifting two fingers and then pressing the tips of his fingers against his thumb in an 'O' shape, to inform the everyone that there were now at least twenty walkers to contend with.

Beth and Abraham were left standing at the opposite end of the aisle when Daryl saw a flashlight on the other side of building. At first he'd thought it was his imagination, but the shots that fired afterward proved otherwise, and caught everyone else's attention.

"_Shit,_" he cursed under his breath, "we got company."

He could hear Rick murmuring to the rest of the group, but Beth and Abraham were still several feet away and walkers, attracted by the gunshots, would already be moving in on them. Daryl called their names, knowing stealth was no longer a matter of importance, and two ran towards the group as they huddled together.

"We can't go back the way we came," Glenn whispered hastily.

"There's 'ah back exit in the corner over there," Daryl gestured to where the walkers had been standing, "that's our best bet."

Everyone seemed to be in agreement.

"We split into two groups, keep our back to each other, in formation, just like we did at the prison and we move together," Rick said in a rush.

The first walkers came into view and there was no time left for discussion. Rick and Carl grabbed Rosita and Abraham, showing them what to do, while Daryl did the same with Sasha. While Rick and his group moved, Maggie and Glenn fell into step next to Beth and Daryl as they began navigating through the small herd of decomposing bodies.

"There's so many," Sasha's voice was on the brink of hysteria.

"Jus' keep movin'," Daryl yelled as another walked grabbed at his arm.

Rick's group opened the door as more shots could be heard began firing, closer than they had been before. They only had a few more steps and they would be out of immediate danger. He wanted to grab Beth and dash for the door, but he knew he couldn't break formation. Just as they were stepping into the sunlight streaming in through their exit, a scream shattered his concentration. Whipping his head next to him, he blood ran cold when he saw Beth running after Maggie. The brunette was bleeding from her shoulder, fending off a walking leaning over top of her where she had fallen to the floor with her good arm.

"Goddamit Beth," Daryl cursed, pushing Sasha toward Rick.

Shoving his knife throw a walker's temple he made his way back toward the girls, not startled when he noticed Glenn doing the same.

"She's been shot," Beth hollered as another corpse dropped at her feet.

"_Glenn_," Daryl's voice was hard.

"I got 'er. Just hold them off while I get her to tha' door," Glenn shouted over the chaos.

Daryl stepped up beside Beth, firing his crossbow and slinging over his shoulder, not having enough time to load another bolt. As soon as Glenn had Maggie on her feet, they were fighting their way towards the door as quickly as possible. Shots could still be heard in the background, but by the sounds of things, they were retreating back to the entrance of the grocery store.

"Stupid pricks," Daryl cursed, "Should know by now not to run around wastin' bullets."

"Obviously not," Beth grumbled, shoving the knife he had once owned through the eye socket of a reanimated being.

Standing back to back, they fought their way through the chaos of snaring teeth and clawing fingers. Keeping a close eye on Glenn and Maggie, Daryl failed to see the walker slithering on the ground until its hand clasped around his ankle. It took several tries, but he finally yanked his ankle free and slammed the heel of his Red Wing boot down on its head. Those precious moments were all it took for their exit to be cut off by the dead. He could hear Maggie shrieking Beth's name, but each scream sounded farther away. Seconds later, the little bit of light that had brightened the dark store for them went out and he knew the door to the exit was closed.

Beth anxious voice called to him, "Where do we go?"

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, forcing them to focus so he could find anything that could provide them with an escape route.

Kicking a walker in the chest, knocking it along with several other's away from them, Daryl grabbed Beth's wrist and rushed to the door he had seen when he had first spotted the exit. Throwing caution to the wind, Daryl yanked the door open, ready to thrash at whatever was on the other side. When only cleaning supplies and a broom came into view, he yanked Beth in behind him and shut the door.

They were both breathing heavily, dripping with sweat, and covered in blood, but they were safe. The group would retreat back to the house and when everything quieted down outside, Daryl would sneak them out the back door. OFor now, they would bide their time and catch their breath.

Moving to the back of the closet, he slid down the wall, and rested his head against the cool, smooth brick. His crossbow clattered to the ground beside him and he slid it out of the way so Beth could sit next to him. The dead beat against the door relentlessly and it reminded him of how things had been when they first fled the prison.

"I guess bein' stuck in a closet is better than bein' stuck in the truck of a car," Beth said with a laugh; reading his thoughts, "At least we have leg room."

Daryl smirked tiredly, unsure if she could see him in the dark.

"You were right," she said loud enough for him to hear.

"'Bout what?" He breathed the question.

"Everything…with Maggie," she added after a few heartbeats, "I saw her get shot and I didn't even think twice about tryin' t'save her."

"I noticed," Daryl grouched.

He heard Beth's breathy laugh and silence fell between them.

He felt her fingers thread through his in the dark, her smaller hands shaking as the adrenaline left their systems. Closing his eyes, he was content for the moment. They were trapped, but at least he knew she was safe.

"I'll talk to Maggie," she leaned her head against his shoulder, "when we get out of here."

"Yeah?" His rough voice barely a whisper.

"Yeah," she nodded against his skin, "If I had lost her today…our last conversation we just yelled at each other. I don't want her last thoughts being about how bad we've been to each other. Life's too short, ya' know?"

"I know," he replied, squeezing her hand.

He felt her squeeze his hand in return and he gently rested his chin atop her head.

"You're _good_ Beth," Daryl emphasized the word.

"You'd 'ah done the same for Merle," she countered.

"Probably," Daryl admitted, "Doubt tha' bastard would'a done the same for me though."

"Older siblings suck," Beth huffed.

Daryl chuckled softly into her hair.

"If we're gonna' be stuck here, might as well make the best of it," Beth said, suddenly changing topics.

"I'm fresh outta' moonshine," he informed her sarcastically.

She let out a soft laugh and lifted her head to look at him, "Wanna' know a secret?"

Daryl made out her expression in the dark and suddenly felt the walls closing in on him. He felt a sudden rise of panic and wasn't sure how to answer, or which direction she was taking their conversation, so he settled on furrowing his brows.

"I've never had a job," she announced dejectedly.

Caught off guard it took Daryl a moment to decipher what she meant. Realizing she was referring to their game, he inquired, "I thought you worked with yer' dad?"

"I mean a _real _job. Where you get paid money and have to work a full eight hours," she clarified.

"Ain't all it's cracked up t'be," he grumbled and immediately felt her elbow nudge into his side.

"It's what a _normal _life would have been like…_before_," she sighed and replaced her head on his shoulder.

"I s'pose," he conceded quietly.

"If it were my choice, I'd work in a music store," she declared excitedly, "Or maybe a bookstore? Definitely somewhere I could drink coffee."

He smiled, trying to imagine Beth in a hunter green apron working at Barnes and Noble, sipping on a Starbucks coffee, without a care in the world.

…

Riding his bike into downtown Atlanta, Daryl had received a phone call from one of Merle's 'friends,' asking him to meet with a few of them and give them the details on what had happened at the party last weekend. He'd told Merle when he'd last visited him, that he would come by sometime during week and fill him in, but it seemed like a few of his brother's lackeys were impatient and far too eager to please.

When he'd pulled off the road, he was all but enthused to see three members in Merle's biker gang waiting for him. If there was one thing that Daryl had learned from Merle, it's to _never_ tell _anyone_ in the group where the profit from the merchandise has been stashed. He'd seen too many people run off with huge sums of his brother's money, illegally earned or not, in the past and there was no way he was going to allow that to happen on his watch.

"I got his cash," Daryl said the third time.

"Where is it then?" The larger man, going by the biker name 'Tank,' stepped up to him.

Not one to be intimidated, Daryl glared and turned to stand toe to toe with the man, "It's _safe_."

They were standing on the corner of one of the quieter streets, across from a rundown music store that was well known for selling more than _just _music.

"Alright," Slick, the skinniest of the group, stepped in between them and broke the tension, "Long as you got tha' money, that's all that matters."

"I done told you I got it, didn't I?" Daryl spat angrily, thrusting his hand in his pocket, searching for his cigarette lighter.

"You know we're jus' lookin' out for Merle's…_business_," Bullet, the woman Merle had been shacking up with before his incarceration, smirked while pushing off of her custom Harley and reaching forward to light the cigarette dangling from his lips.

"I ain't Merle's bitch," Daryl sneered, sucking in a deep breath filled with nicotine, and held the white stick between his fingers as he continued, "I do what I choose t'do because he's my brother. Next time you're checkin' on his _affairs_, go to tha' source and leave me tha' fuck out of it."

Brushing past Tank, Daryl moved to get on his bike when a streak of blonde and a vaguely familiar voice calling his name caught his attention.

"Beth?" He asked, quickly tossing the cigarette to the ground and smothering it out with his boot, while the woman in question ran across the street towards him, "What tha' hell are you doin' in this part 'ah town?"

Her messy hair hung loosely past her shoulders, a stark contrast to her black tank top, and the flannel shirt tied around her waist barely left any of her denim shorts visible.

"I'm job huntin'," she replied with a smile.

"_Here_?" He inquired skeptically.

Absently he'd realized he'd just wasted an entire cigarette, throwing it down when he'd remembered Beth wasn't a fan of them, and then felt extremely annoyed with himself that he even cared what she thought.

"Well…yeah?" He could hear the question in her voice, "The music store was kind of a detour though."

Daryl narrowed his eyes. He'd never once taken Beth for a junkie, but the fact that she had come out of the very same music store that sold to so many college kids, had him starting to second guess himself.

"They weren't hiring, but I thought they might've had some old vinyls," she elaborated, "They didn't have the one I was lookin' for though."

"Have ya' a little songbird Dixon?" A female voice interrupted before Daryl could reply.

Sighing, Daryl cursed his luck. He had been so distracted by seeing Beth come out of the music store that he had completely forgotten about his present company.

"Her name's Beth," he gripped the handlebars of his bike tightly, "Beth, this is Bullet."

"Nice to meet you," Beth smiled and Daryl felt his stomach drop.

Daryl decided right then and there that this girl had absolutely _no sense_ for when she was in a situation that she _did not _belong in. Most people would see a group like his and turn the other direction, but for whatever reason, she kept approaching him.

"Likewise," Bullet replied coyly, "How do you two know each other?"

"He fixed my-"

"We don't," Daryl cut Beth off and glared.

"I see," Bullet replied with a knowing smirk, "Well I guess we'll leave you two to…_get to know _each other then. 'Preciate your time, _Dixon_."

Daryl's keen eyes followed the trio as they got on their motorcycles, revved their engines unnecessarily, forcing Beth to shrink back and cover her ears, and sped down the street. When he was sure they were gone, the roar of their motors no longer able to be heard, Daryl let his shoulders relax a bit.

"Sorry," Beth started, "I assumed they were friends."

"You got a look at that lot and assumed I's friends with 'em?" Daryl scoffed.

"Well I wasn't gonna' judge," Beth tried and failed to not sound offended.

Daryl kept his thoughts of her lack of being able to judge _good_ character to himself and only hummed a reply.

"Anyway," Beth checked her phone and slid it back into her pocket, "I've got a few more places to apply to so I'll let you get on your way. Just wanted to say hi."

"Yeah, see ya'," Daryl answered as Beth turned to leave.

He _should _have started up his bike and left. He definitely _should _have ignored her completely in front of Bullet and the rest. There were a lot of things he _should _have done, but for whatever reason, he found himself doing the opposite when it came to Beth. Instead of leaving, he did the opposite and sought out Beth's attention.

"Hey Beth," he placed his hand on the leather seat of his motorcycle and turned his torso to look at her, "You uh…"

He stopped himself, chewing on his lower lip; he was unsure how to word his sentence properly. They weren't in the best neighborhood and it wasn't safe for a girl like _her _to be walking around downtown Atlanta. During the day it wasn't as bad, but that didn't mean certain situations still happened in broad daylight.

He finally settled on, "You got 'ah ride?"

"Yeah," she answered and gestured down the street, "I parked my truck down there and checked a few of the businesses along the way to the music store."

Her truck was a few blocks away and he knew she could probably make it there without any issues, but he felt obligated to ensure she did just that knowing the kind of area they were in.

"Oh," Beth must have realized his intention, "I didn't mean for you t'walk with me."

"S' no problem," Daryl shrugged his shoulders and shoved his hands into his the pockets of his jeans.

They walked a few steps before Beth broke the silence.

"I'm just lookin' for something over the summer, but most people want t'hire someone long-term," she rambled agitatedly.

"You done with classes?" He inquired, genuinely curious.

"I take my last final tomorrow," her voice sounded more enthusiastic.

Daryl nodded his head several times in response.

"Most places already have spots for people returning to work from last summer," she sighed, "Makes it nearly impossible for us newbies to get a job."

"Guess I shouldn't complain 'bout havin' too much work then," Daryl pulled one of his hands from his pocket and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Shop been busy?" She asked while looking up at him.

"Yeah. Jess' old lady, Wanda, quit. She'd been doin' the paperwork for us. They split up a day or two before yer' truck broke down. Packed all her shit and left. Hasn't been t'work since."

"So you got stuck doin' your own paperwork?" She questioned thoughtfully.

Daryl scoffed, "Mine, Jess', and the other two guys who work at tha' shop."

"That sucks," Beth made a sour face.

"At least I got 'ah job," Daryl smirked at her.

"Touché," she laughed and reached in her front pocket.

"It been given' you any problems?" He asked while placing his hand on the hood of the old, blue farm truck.

"Jinksy seems to be holdin' it together for now," she replied absently while unlocking the door.

"You named your truck Jinksy?" Daryl inquired skeptically.

"Yeah," she stopped and looked at him, "I'm always afraid I'll jinx myself about him startin' for me."

Daryl wasn't sure whether to laugh or roll his eyes.

"Well I thought it was a clever name," she lifted her chin defiantly.

He smirked at her, as he found himself doing more often than not and patted the hood, "I'll see ya' round."

"We seem to have a knack for runnin' into each other," she commented while climbing into her truck.

"Seems that 'ah way," he replied, grabbing the frame of her door, "Good luck on yer' exam."

"Thanks," she acknowledged, "and thanks for walkin' me to my truck, even though you didn't have to."

He mumbled a reply and shut her door, turning to walk back to his bike.

When he was nearly halfway to his bike, he heard the slow roll of tires on the street and glanced over to see Beth's blue Ford slowly keeping with his pace. His smirked turned into a crook grin and he shook his head at her antics. When he finally reached his bike he heard the truck stop and the creaking of a window rolling down.

"Jus' retrunin' the favor," Beth called.

Lifting his hand and tossing a wave over his shoulder, he threw his leg over his bike and lifted the kickstand with his heel. Watching as Beth's taillights drove down the street, Daryl felt an odd sense of contentment from the afternoon's events.

Turning over the key and revving his engine a few times, he turned the opposite way as Beth and headed back towards his apartment.

ooo

It had been a few days since he had seen Beth and yet he found himself wondering what she was doing from time to time. He blamed it on idle curiosity. Beth wasn't like most people he'd come across; not quick to judge, although he would argue that it wouldn't hurt her to be at least a _little_ judgmental. She was genuine, honest, and for some reason she didn't seem deterred by his terse exterior.

He had decidedly come to the conclusion that she must just be a _nice _person and treated everyone the same way she regarded him. She was an enigma to him only because he wasn't used to people like her. _Good _people didn't run in his circles, not that he really had any circles outside of what Merle forced on him when he was around.

Pulling into the driveway of Jess' garage, he backed into his spot, and shut off the engine. It was Wednesday morning and his uncle had asked him to come in early to help the new secretary he'd hired. While Daryl wasn't happy to have to come into work an extra hour early, the fact that _he _would no longer be stuck doing everyone's paperwork outweighed losing sleep.

Unlocking the door, he started rifling through the piles of paperwork he hadn't been able to get to the day before. He stopped midway through and decided to wait until the new employee showed up so that he could file the loose papers and explain how their system worked; solving two issues at once. He heard the crackling of rubber on gravel and assumed the new secretary had arrived.

With his back to the door, Daryl took a deep breath and hoped that whoever his uncle had found wasn't worse than any of the office ladies they'd had in the past. A few had been Jess' girlfriend, which always turned out badly when their relationship ended, but his uncle wasn't seeing anyone new…not that he knew of anyway. Other's had been suggested by the employees and they hadn't lasted long either. Most seemed to work just long enough to find their next meal ticket, informing him or Jess that they were quitting as they hopped on the back of some guy's motorcycle that they'd just finished repairing.

"Mornin'," a warm voice called from behind him as they opened the door.

Daryl furrowed his brows and turned to see who had walked into the office.

"So you gonna' show me the ropes?" They went on to ask.

"You have got t'be shittin' me," Daryl breathed, "_Beth_?"

"That'd be my name," she gestured to the embroidered cursive on her shirt that looked much like Daryl's.

"What are you doin' here?" He asked despite the obvious.

"I found me a summer job," she answered with a smile, "I called your uncle after I talked to you Thursday. Picked my shirt up yesterday."

"You know what kind of people we deal with here, right?" He couldn't help but blurt out.

"I figured I'd at least get a thank you, saving you all the trouble of doin' everyone's paperwork," she placed one of her hands on her hips, "and I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"Guess we'll find out," Daryl grumbled under his breath.

"So what's first?" Beth asked while scanning the disorganized room.

"Papers," Daryl pointed to the desk, "We keep everything in tha' filin' cabinet."

Over the next hour Daryl showed Beth where to file away the paperwork she would receive after a job was finished, along with how to write up ticket receipts and where to file them, where to place documents on repairs in progress, and how to run the cash register.

"What's with the computer?" She asked, gesturing to the monitor and tower in the back corner of the room.

"Jess got that a few months back, thinkin' it'd be easier to keep track of work orders, inventory, print out tickets, and all that B.S., but none of us have taken tha' time t'mess with it," he explained while gathering the broken parts that Jess had left in the office over the weekend.

Beth nodded her head and changed the subject, "I wrote down all the important stuff so I should be good. Mr. Collins told me t'just worry about getting everything filed today and work on other stuff tomorrow."

Daryl huffed, "Jus' call him Jess. We ain't the polite sort here."

"Oh," she laughed awkwardly, "Force of habit."

Daryl knew he was being short with her. She had listened to everything he said, asked a few intelligent questions, and had been nothing but courteous. He should have been ecstatic to have someone like Beth taking over for him in the office. He wasn't sure why he was on edge, but for some reason he wanted to be anywhere but in the room with her.

"I'm gonna' get t'work," Daryl brushed past her, stopping at the hanging door that led to the shop, "Call me if you need anything."

Without waiting for a reply, Daryl entered the _Mechanics Only _area and started his day.

ooo

It was dark when he decided to call it quits. He had been doing everything possible to keep himself busy and not linger in the office as he usually would when he had down time. He'd even eaten his lunch in the shop instead of with his uncle, in the office, as per the norm.

Expecting everyone to be gone, he entered the lobby area to lock up the front when he noticed the light was still on. Peering over the reception bar, the first thing he noticed was how remarkably _clean _the room looked. The desks had been rearranged, everything had been moved to its proper place, and there were no loose papers to be seen. He could hear someone shuffling inside, but couldn't see them. Opening the office door, Daryl found Beth sitting on the floor, sifting through the only stack of papers left in the room.

"Hey," she said without looking up.

"Hey," he replied, looking over the spotless work area more thoroughly.

"I'm almost done," she replied flatly.

"You do all this by yourself?" He asked still standing in the doorway, afraid to touch anything with his greasy hands.

"Yeah," she answered, evening out a stack of receipts by tapping them against the floor.

He sensed something…off about Beth's demeanor. She was usually all smiles, looking at him while she spoke, and generally gave more than one word answers.

"You don't have t'wait," she finally turned and glanced up at him, "Jess gave me a key."

Her face was smudged with dirt and grease, her hands were as black as his, and she looked as worn-out as he felt.

"Nah. I ain't got anywhere t'be," Daryl said suddenly feeling guilty for avoiding her all day when she'd been working so hard.

He should have known that Beth would be as sincere in her work as she seemed to be in all other aspects.

"'Kay," she offered him a tired smile and finished sorting the last of the papers.

Once she had put everything away and gave the room a final once over, she moved to flick off the lights, and Daryl shut the door behind her.

"I'm gonna' sleep good tonight," she hummed as the cool night air hit their faces.

Locking of the main door, Daryl nodded, "First few days are always tha' hardest."

"I'm hoping tomorrow will be easier," she placed one of her hands on her opposite shoulder and rolled it a few times.

Daryl glanced at her, knowing there was always something more to be done, but not sure if he should tell her such things after such a long day.

"I'll see ya' tomorrow," she glance at him and moved to her truck.

Pulling a cigarette out of his chest pocket, Daryl hesitated, "Hey Beth?"

"Yeah?" She stopped pulling her door shut midway.

"You done good today," he replied, holding the unlit cigarette between his lips.

"Thanks," she replied softly.

Daryl held her gaze until she finally closed the door and started her truck.

As Beth pulled out of the parking lot, Daryl lifted his lighter to his mouth, and took a long drag from the tobacco filled wrapper. He still wasn't sure why he'd been so anxious around Beth earlier that morning, or what he had expected of her working in the office, but it was obvious she had a strong work ethic and that was something he could respect. He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised.

Smirking, he climbed into his truck and started the engine. Pressing the clutch and moving the shifter into drive, he pulled out of his spot, and realized his work day gone smoother than he'd experienced in weeks. Having Beth take over the office might not be as disastrous as he'd first thought after all.

…

Beth blinked her eyes, disoriented for a moment before remembering their predicament.

"You 'wake?" Daryl asked next to her.

"Yeah," she replied sheepishly, "I was more exhausted than I thought."

"'S fine," Daryl answered while slowly standing and replacing his crossbow over his shoulder.

"Time t'go?" Beth inquired, listening for sounds of the dead, feeling relieved when she heard nothing.

"Yeah," Daryl nodded, "We been in here 'ah while. Rick and them'll worry if we don't get back soon."

"'Kay. I'm right behind you," Beth whispered as they moved to the front of the closet.

She waited as Daryl slowly cracked open the metal door. Clutching the back of his shirt with one hand, knife held tightly in the other, she followed his steps as he navigated through the back of the grocery store to the exit.

Daryl stopped and she immediately tensed. She didn't relax until she heard the soft 'click' that indicated they had reached the door, and had never been more grateful to be in the dark, open woods of Georgia.

Creeping around to the front of the store, they stayed lowed until they could no longer see the building behind them. Settling into a comfortable pace, they began walking down the road, toward the house where everyone would be waiting for them.

"You still gonna' talk t'Maggie?" Daryl asked from beside her.

"Yeah," she heaved a sigh, "I'll talk t'her."

"Good," Daryl's approving tone made Beth roll her eyes.

"Not tonight though," she couldn't help but deflate his ego some, "I'm a little on the tired side and I'm sure she's passed out. She _did _get shot earlier today."

"How bad was it?" Daryl's tone changed.

"Through and through," Beth answered, "but I didn't get to see how bad the damage was."

"You know anything 'bout bullet wounds?" He inquired further.

Staring up at the sky, she tried to remember every occurrence her father had dealt with gunshot wounds, "Not really. Daddy wouldn't let me stay in the room when he operated on Carl. He had a few cases of cattle brought in that'd been shot by hunters. Apparently a cow in the woods looks similar to 'ah deer."

After a brief pause she went on to ask, "Do they?"

"Do they what?" Daryl looked at her.

"Do cattle look like deer? When you're huntin'," Beth reiterated.

"I s'pose so," her tilted his head, "If you only seen the side of 'ah smaller one maybe?"

"Maybe," Beth shrugged her shoulders.

She was rambling. She had a habit of such when she was nervous and now that they were out of danger themselves, she had time to address exactly what had happened to her sister. Her stomach churned, she felt clammy, and her hands were sweating. She had been so sure Maggie was fine up until she thought back to the damage she had seen done to the animals her father had worked on.

Needing to say the words aloud, more for her own benefit that anything else, she returned to their initial topic, "Maggie's tough though. I'm sure she's jus' fine. Daddy taught Carol some basic first aid when she was gonna' help with Lori's delivery so I'm sure she's already got Maggie patched up and they're just waitin' on us."

Daryl didn't reply.

They traveled the rest of the way in relative silence until a dimly lit house came into view. Walking up to the door, Daryl knocked and called out to Rick, as to not alarm anyone of their approach.

Rick threw open the door and wrapped his arms around Daryl in a tight embrace before moving to Beth.

"I'm so glad you two are alright," the older man spoke as he squeezed her tightly, "We're were gonna' come an' get you guys if you hadn't shown up by mornin'."

"We're fine. Hid in the utility closet 'til they settled down," Daryl explained.

"How's Maggie?" Beth asked as she pulled back from the ex-sheriff's deputy.

Rick didn't meet her gaze and kept his eyes trained on the floor, "Why don't the both of you get inside where its safe."

Beth suddenly felt sick.

Rushing into the house, pushing past Rick and everyone else, she stopped short when she saw Carol leaning over Maggie's prone form.

"Is…" Beth's voice shook, "Is she…"

Carol stood, wiping her eyes, "I cleaned the wound and wrapped it up. I did everything I could, but…"

"Oh my god," Beth stumbled back a few steps, into Daryl.

Carol must have realized what Beth was asking and immediately rushed forward, "_No_, no! She's not dead."

If not for Daryl's hands holding her shoulder's Beth felt like she would have collapsed where she stood. Instead, she fell back into Daryl's strong chest.

"Then what is it?" Beth asked unsteadily.

Carol glanced up and Daryl and then behind her to Glenn.

"_What_?" Beth asked furrowing her brows.

A million different scenarios were going through Beth's head. Had she been bit? Was she comatose? Had something worse happened while they were separated?

When Carol's clear, blue eyes met hers, Beth knew whatever the older woman was going to tell her was not good.

"Where she was shot…" Carol paused and looked down at her feet. Taking a deep breath, she met Beth's eyes once more and continued, "I'm afraid she won't be able to use her arm anymore."

Beth blinked.

Maggie had been shot, but it was nonlethal.

Beth blinked again.

They lived in a world where they had to fight every day in order to survive.

She blinked several more times as tears threatened to spill down her cheeks.

Her sister, her last living relative, was lying unconscious on the floor and might never be able to use her arm again, in a world full of flesh eating monsters.

"We don't know that for sure," Glenn's broken voice drifted through the air, "She could wake up and be just fine."

Moving out of Daryl's grasp, Beth moved to sit across from Glenn, next to her sister.

While what Glenn said was true, there were still a number of other factors to consider. Maggie's wound could get infected and if she got blood poisoning they would have no choice but to amputate the arm in order to save her. If there was internal bleeding, she'd be dead within a few hours, and there would be nothing they could do. If none of those factors came into play and Maggie woke up just fine, there was still the chance that she would have a bum arm in a world where survival of the fittest was no longer a theory, but a reality.

"Come on," Beth heard Rick's voice behind her, "Let's give 'er a few minutes."

Glenn stood from his spot and meandered out of her line of sight. The sounds of footsteps leaving the room gave Beth the illusion of privacy. Dropping her shoulders, she grasped the hand of Maggie's injured arm. Her usually warm flesh felt so cold against her hands. She didn't want to cry. There was no reason to cry and yet the tears fell anyway. After a few moments she felt a warm hand on her back and looked over to see Daryl settle beside her.

"Your dad was a tough son of 'ah bitch," Daryl stated evenly.

Beth sniffled and felt her lips quirk at his attempt to comfort her.

"His daughters are just like 'em," he continued.

"Thanks," Beth bumped her shoulder into his with a watery laugh.

"Yeah," Daryl murmured.

"I'm not givin' up on her," Beth stared into her sister's face, furiously wiping away her tears.

"I know," Daryl's rough voice having a soothing effect on her.

They sat in silence and Beth rubbed gentle circles into her sister's palm.

This new world had never made any sense to Beth. Everything that had been normal…_comfortable_, had been shattered when the dead rose from the earth and began consuming their own kind. She'd lost her brother, her mother, and her father. Now she was faced with the possibility that she may lose Maggie as well. Even if Maggie lived, a part of her would be lost if she couldn't be the same independent person she'd been _before_.

Life had never been fair, but Beth wasn't sure how she would how she would continue on if she became the last Greene. There was a certain comfort in having someone who'd had known her from _before_. No matter how angry she had been with Maggie, she knew she'd eventually forgive her…she already had forgiven her. She had just been too stubborn to say so.

Beth had lost so much time with her sister because she had been angry. As if Hershel himself was sending her a message, Beth suddenly remembered the phrase her father had told them every time they had fought; _'For every minute you girls spend angry with one another, ya' lose sixty seconds of happiness that you'll never get back.'_

_She had never realized just how true that statement was until this very moment._

…

**A/N: **The end line is a paraphrased quote from Ralph Waldo Emerson. The actual line is _'For every minute you are angry you lose sixty seconds of happiness_.' I found it very fitting for this chapter!

I want the ZA world to progress as much as the AU world does so I focused heavily on Maggie and Beth's relationship in this chapter…as well as some Daryl x Beth stuff in the AU. I'd like to think Daryl might be a little more relaxed without Merle around, like we see in later seasons of the show, and Beth is just one of those people that you can't help but like! So I wanted him a bit wishy-washey here! Let me know what you think! Hope you guys enjoyed it!

To all of you going back to school tmw, I hope you have a great day! XOXO


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